


NCIS: Gotham Knights

by tevans41



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), NCIS
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-10
Updated: 2011-11-17
Packaged: 2017-10-22 11:53:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 20,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/237742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tevans41/pseuds/tevans41
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A body is found at Gotham Harbour. NCIS is called. The only witness is the one that local police commissioner Jim Gordon can't control and won't try. What happens when Special Agent Gibbs meets Batman?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Grab Your Gear

 

 

Gotham City: Famous the world over for its culture, commerce, industry, and night life. Many people come to Gotham to realize their dreams. Some succeed in business, some in entertainment. Some don't succeed at all. Many of those whose dreams are shattered by Gotham's movers and shakers return home to the comfort of their loving families. A few however stay behind, disillusioned, broken, and damaged. These few find themselves a part of Gotham's second most famous feature. The crime in this city is growing daily. Penniless and luckless men and women find themselves doing whatever is necessary just to survive. The desperate souls turn to petty thefts, muggings, armed robberies, even murder.  
Naval Yard, Washington DC: Home of the United States Navy and the largest port in the country. The entire Navy is run from this piece of real estate, including the civilian branch of their law enforcement, NCIS: Naval Criminal Investigation Service. Inside the offices of NCIS sits the agency's premiere investigative team, led by former Gunnery Sergeant, Leroy Jethro Gibbs. As he raises his head he looks around his bullpen, partly to make sure his people are working, partly admiring the fact that he has ended up with the best group of people NCIS has. Very Special Agent Tony DiNozzo, senior agent and movie buff. Gibbs’ go to guy when the chips are down. Gibbs grabbed Tony from Baltimore P.D. after the younger agent left the department over a decade ago. Next was Special Agent Timothy McGee. Tim is a computer geek, loyal friend, and the kid brother to everyone on the team. McGee came from the Norfolk field office, where he worked as a case agent until Gibbs brought him onto his team. Across from Gibbs sat Ziva David, former Mossad operative, now American citizen and NCIS agent. Over the past few years, their relationship had seen ups and downs, but Gibbs would place his life in her hands any day, knowing it would be safe. Glancing back down to his own paperwork, Gibbs smiled thinking of how quietly the team was working. This must be the longest amount of time in history that Tony has allowed silence to reign.  
“Wow,” Tony said. “It’s quiet here. Too quiet.”  
So much for that, Gibbs thought continuing with his work, hoping this would discourage Tony from going on. Who am I kidding?  
“You know, this reminds me of something.” Tony said getting up from his desk.  
“There’s a surprise,” Ziva said from her desk.  
“Picture it,” Tony continued, ignoring her. “Sicily, 2011-”  
“Really?” McGee interrupted. “You’re quoting The Golden Girls?”  
“Quiet McGeek,” Tony said. “A young NCIS very special agent is alone in his hotel room. Suddenly the phone-” Tony is interrupted again by the phone on Gibbs’ desk. “Rings.”  
“Alright,” Gibbs says and hangs up the phone. Rising and retrieving his Sig from his desk he tells his team to “Grab your gear.”  
“I swear Boss, I had nothing to do with that,” Tony says, reaching for his own weapon and backpack.  
“I hope not DiNozzo. There’s a dead sailor in Gotham.”  
“We’re going to New Jersey Boss?” Tony asks. “Tony Soprano clippin’ sailors now?”  
“If he is DiNozzo,” Gibbs said before slapping the back of Tony’s head “His TV career is over.”  
Gibbs pushed the elevator button as McGee and Ziva joined them.  


* * *

  
Gibbs hopped out of the van before it even came to a full stop. As he made his way past the crime scene tape, he took a quick look around to see if there were any looky loos. Looks like it’s just cops and witnesses tonight, Gibbs thought. Good.  
He made his way past the uniform playing gatekeeper and headed towards the collection of cops surrounding what had to be the body. As he approached, a white-haired detective looked up and met him half-way with his hand extended.  
“You Gibbs?” he asked. Gibbs nodded as he uncharacteristically took the man’s hand. “Jim Gordon. I called you guys as soon as I found out the vic’s I.D.”  
“Name?” Gibbs asked, motioning for his team to separate and do their jobs.  
“CPO Robert Granger.” Gordon answered. “Single stab wound, some searing around the entrance, some kind of big blade.”  
Gibbs nodded, taking notes before asking “Any witnesses?”  
“No,” Gordon answered. “The guy, who found the body gave a statement, says he didn’t see anything.”  
Gibbs looked up and glanced around.  
“Where is he?”  
“Over here, ready for your M.E.” Gordon said pointing to the body.  
“The witness.”  
“He already left.”  
“When?” Gibbs asked, clearly irritated.  
“Just after I took his statement,” Gordon said matter of factly.  
“And you just let him?”  
“Had no choice in the matter.”  
“How the hell long have you been a cop Gordon?” Gibbs shouted, drawing the attention of his team and the local LEOs.  
“Calm yourself down Agent Gibbs,” Gordon said. “This was a special situation.”  
“I don’t give a damn what kind of situation it is, you never let a witness leave my crime scene until I interview them.” Gibbs shouted.  
“I took his statement before he left.”  
“You shouldn’t have let him go in the first place.”  
“It’s like I said,” Gordon said in a quiet tone. “I had no choice. He wouldn’t stay to talk to you.”  
“Then you should have put him in cuffs and made him stay.” Gibbs said just as quietly but with much more menace in his voice. “You’d better have at least got his name and contact info.”  
“Oh, I got them alright,” Gordon said with a hint of a smile. “But you ain’t gonna like that info much better.”  
“And why not?”  
“It was the Batman that found him.”  
“Who?”  
“You Feds really don’t pay attention do you?” Gordon asked.  
“What are you talking about?” Gibbs asked.  
“The Batman is a vigilante here in Gotham,” Gordon said. “Officially, he’s not affiliated with the department, but the truth is, he does more in one night to stop crime in this city than most of the department can do in a month.”  
“So what’s his name, and how do I get in touch with him?” Gibbs asked before Gordon could say anything else to give him a headache.  
“That is his name,” Gordon said. “What he goes by when the mask comes off, I don’t know. But, I can turn on the signal and hope he comes.”  
“The signal?”  
“It’s how we tell him we need to talk to him.”  
“You have an unidentified nut case running around the city doing the work of the police?” Gibbs asked with a confused look. “And you have a little signal you can send him so he can come talk to you? And you had him right here in front of you and didn’t arrest him?”  
“Tell ya the truth,” Gordon said, “I could slap the cuffs on him, put him in the squad car, and head to the jail, and he’d be back home eating a sandwich before I turned the corner.”  
“Geez, I hope you don’t treat all your criminals like that.” Gibbs said frustrated. “Give me his statement.” As Gibbs snatched the memo pad from Gordon’s hand, he headed to the body, just as Ducky’s van pulled up. “And send your little signal, Gordon. I wanna talk to your bat!”  
“Talking to bats Jethro?” Dr. Donald Ducky Mallard asked as he approached.  
“No Duck, just a nutcase who thinks he’s a bat.”  
“I see,” said Ducky, clearly not. “I was concerned you were planning another trip to Mexico,” he said as he put down his case and pulled latex gloves from his pocket.  
“Mexico Duck?”  
“Yes,” said the NCIS medical examiner. “You see, a group of researchers have learned that the Mexican free-tailed bats, not only have a rich repertoire of distinct and complex calls, some of the sounds can be mixed and matched to convey very different meaning. Essentially, this could prove that they have the closest thing to a language as any animal has shown to date. In fact, if researcher-”  
“Duck,” Gibbs said, interrupting his old friend. “Every time?”  
“Sorry Jethro,” Ducky said, clearly not at all apologetic. “But it is quite fascinating, the possibility of talking to animals.”  
“I’ll leave the Dr. Doolittle work to other people Duck.”  
“Yes,” Ducky said, now interested in the body before him. “What have you gotten yourself into young man?” Ducky asked the dead petty officer.  
After extracting the liver probe, Ducky checked the temperature and did a quick mental calculation.  
“Our young petty officer died about five hours ago Jethro,” Ducky said as he put his probe away and began checking the wound. “Of course, I’ll know more when we get him home, but it seems he died of sharp force trauma, but-”  
After a pause, Gibbs knelt beside his medical examiner.  
“Something wrong duck?” he asked.  
“There’s some cauterization near the opening of the wound, and searing of the flesh.”  
“Yeah, that’s what the detective said.”  
“Jethro,” Ducky said as the two rose to their feet. “I can’t be certain until I get him open, but it seems that this young man was stabbed with a hot blade.”  
“Get him home Duck.” Gibbs said as he turned from the body. He had barely taken a couple of steps before he was met by DiNozzo.  
“Boss, you’re not gonna believe some of the stuff these local guys are talking about.” DiNozzo said as he came up to Gibbs. “Something about a guy dressed up like a bat.”  
“Yeah, I heard the same thing DiNozzo,” Gibbs said. “Detective Gordon seems to think he can walk on water.”  
“Someone said he uses a searchlight to signal him Boss.”  
“A searchlight DiNozzo?”  
“That's what their saying Boss”  
“Christ,” Gibbs said, shaking his head. “Alright, send McGee back with Ducky and the body. Tell him to get to working on this bat guy. I want to know everything about him, especially who he is. You and Ziva finish processing the scene, then look into Petty Officer Granger's background. Interview shipmates, find out what he was planning to do ashore.”  
“What about you, Boss?” Tony asked. “Where are you headed to?”  
“I’m gonna go shine a light on Gordon, ’til his bat shows up.”  


* * *

  
By the time Gibbs made sure his team knew their assignments and saw Ducky, McGee and the body off, Gordon had left the scene, as well as most of the local cops. Gibbs caught up with the gatekeeper just as he was getting into his patrol car.  
“What’s your name officer?” Gibbs asked before the kid could close his door.  
“Battle, sir,” the patrolman said.  
“Battle,” Gibbs repeated. “Any idea which way Detective Gordon went?”  
“Detective?” Battle asked. “I think you mean Commissioner Gordon don’t ya?”  
Gibbs let out a sigh as he dropped his head in frustration. “Yeah.”  
“Hold on.” Battle said, reaching for his radio. “Commissioner Gordon, this is 183, the NCIS guy is requesting your twenty.”  
“En route to HQ,” Gordon’s voice replied from the radio. Have him meet me when he gets finished there.”  
“Will do Commish,” Battle said replacing his radio mic. “I’ll stick around until you’re ready sir.”  
“Thanks,” Gibbs said turning to walk back to the crime scene. As he approached the body, he heard Ducky’s assistant Palmer asking if he could drive back to DC.  
“I don’t see why not,” Ducky said. “Driving is a simple task. You’re bound to be much better at that than navigating.”  
With a quick grunt of amusement, he joined them just as they were about to lift the body onto the gurney.  
“Duck,” he said quietly after the body was on the gurney. “There’s something weird going on here. I know you never miss much, but keep an eye open for anything particularly strange.”  
“Yes, of course Jethro,” Ducky said. “I will have something for you within a couple of hours.”  
“Thanks Duck.”  


* * *

  
He watched from the rooftop a few buildings away. The Navy cops were quick and efficient. As the body was loaded into their van, one of the agents climbed in back with the older ME, while the younger one hopped into the cab. He couldn’t hear the exchange between Gordon and the lead agent, but based on their body language, he was going to be difficult to deal with. Better check with Gordon, he thought. See what kind of read he got from this guy. He wouldn’t make this difficult if he could help it. He really didn’t like dealing with cops he didn’t know, but this guy was going to be different.  
Batman turned from the scene below and headed for the other side of the roof. Once at the edge, he paused briefly. Glancing over his shoulder, a thought occurred to him. Nodding his head, he leapt from the roof. 


	2. Up On the Roof

 

 

Commissioner Jim Gordon stepped out onto the roof and headed for the junction box that would activate the signal for the Batman. He was deep in thought as he reached for the lever that would send power to the powerful search light. Just as his fingers brushed the lever, a hand grabbed his wrist. Gordon’s gun was in hand before he even realized what he was doing.  
“Just wanted to tell you it wasn’t necessary,” Batman said releasing Gordon’s wrist.  
“That’s a damned good way to get shot,” Gordon growled. Looking up he saw nothing but shadows. He turned around and found Batman standing next to the signal light.  
“The Navy cop,” He said as Gordon walked over. “Tell me about him.”  
“Gave me hell for not making you stay,” Gordon said. “He wants to talk to you.”  
“I told you everything.”  
“I don’t think he cares.”  
“What else?”  
“He’s tough,” Gordon said. “Acts like a Marine. Looks like one too.”  
“Hmm.”  
“It’s his case,” Gordon said. “He’s a Fed. If he pushes it, I have to do everything I can to get you and him face-to-face.”  
“Can’t happen.” Batman said, looking out over the city. “I got a bad feeling about him.”  
“He’s tough,” Gordon said, “a bit of a bastard, but he’s straight. I’d bet on it.”  
“That’s the thing,” Batman said. “He looks too straight, too tough. He might try something that would be bad for everyone.”  
“Especially you?”  
“Especially this city.”  
“Hands on your head!”  
Both men turned abruptly to see NCIS Special Agent Gibbs pointing a gun their way.  
“I’m not gonna ask twice.” Gibbs said stepping forward.  
“Gibbs, stop,” Gordon said raising his hand. “You don’t want to handle this like this.”  
“Stay where you are Commissioner,” Gibbs said continuing to advance. Get your cuffs out and put them on him.”  
“Gibbs please,” Gordon said.  
“Do it or get arrested yourself.”  
“I’m sorry for this Jim,” Batman said, slipping a hand under his cape. With his free hand, he shoved the commissioner towards Gibbs and made for the ledge.  
Gibbs raised his weapon to avoid accidentally shooting the police commissioner as he caught him. Shoving Gordon out of the way, he once again leveled his gun at the fleeing shadow.  
“Stop right there!” he shouted. Batman paused at the ledge and looked back.  
“Another time Agent Gibbs,” he said, just before leaping over the side of the building.  
Gibbs ran for the ledge in shock. The bastard jumped, he thought. As he reached the ledge, he looked over and saw a huge bat shape with wings outstretched gliding towards the next rooftop.  
“You get used to that,” Gordon said, as he stood. Gibbs turned his attention back to the police commissioner.  
“That’s twice on my case you’ve had him in your presence and let him go.” Gibbs said, advancing on him.  
“In case you missed it, I didn’t exactly let him go this time.” Gordon shouted.  
“If you had cuffed him when I told you to…”  
“Then the same thing would have happened only a minute earlier.” Gordon was fuming, but remained cautious as Gibbs still had his weapon in hand.  
“What was he doing up here in the first place?” Gibbs asked staring Gordon down.  
“He came here to talk.”  
“And again it didn’t occur to you to bring him to interrogation so I could talk to him?” Gibbs was fuming, gripping his Sig tightly.  
“You’re not from around here.” Gordon shouted.  
“What the hell does that mean?”  
“It means that you don’t know what that man has done for this city,” Gordon shouted. “We were drowning. Criminals were taking over everything, businesses, politics, and the police. They weren’t limiting themselves to the night anymore. Even the best cops were helpless against them.”  
“So how does this guy fit in?” Gibbs asked, now more curious than angry.  
“He came out of nowhere,” Gordon said. “Helped us put a huge dent in mob activities. Put dirty cops on the run, gave notice to crooked politicians and businesses. He gave this city hope.”  
“All by himself?” Gibbs asked.  
“Essentially,” Gordon said. “You gotta understand, he’s got tools we can’t even dream about, skills that shame martial arts masters, and drive. My God he’s driven to clean up this city. He’s one of the good guys Agent Gibbs.”  
“Doesn’t make him exempt from procedures,” Gibbs said, holstering his gun. “Get me a face-to-face. I need to talk to him.”  
“If you haven’t ruined that chance already,” Gordon said as Gibbs stepped through the door and headed back downstairs.  


* * *

  
“I’m impressed,” Alfred Pennyworth said bringing a tray of refreshments to the tabletop next to Batman’s command center. “No new bruises, no cuts, and no damage to you or the suit.”  
“It was a quiet night,” Bruce Wayne said, not taking his eyes from the computer screen. “A couple of muggings and a dead sailor.”  
“Yes, I saw that on the news,” Alfred said. “I assume that means a new branch of law enforcement is involved?”  
“NCIS,” Bruce said, “from the D.C. office.”  
“I see.”  
Bruce looked from his monitor to his butler, his friend. “Something on your mind Alfred?”  
“I just worry,” Alfred said. “Not all are as forgiving as Commissioner Gordon. You may want to tread carefully with this new lot.”  
“It’s the team leader that concerns me.” Bruce said turning back to his work. “I get a feeling that this is over his head, but he’s not the kind to let someone else do his work.”  
“Do his work?” Alfred asked. “Is that what you’re doing?”  
“No,” Bruce said. “I’m just trying to keep everyone safe.”  
“You can’t keep everyone safe,” Alfred said. “And I pity you each time you learn that hard lesson.”  
Bruce turned again from his monitor and looked at the man who raised him. With all of the chaos in his life, Alfred Pennyworth has remained the one true constant.  
“Alfred,” he said. “Do you think that I am effective enough?”  
“Pardon?”  
“I’ve been thinking since The Joker, these guys aren’t going to stay down just because we lock them away. Sometimes I feel like putting them down for good.”  
“Ah,” Alfred said. “Well that would certainly stop their reign of terror.”  
“Yeah.”  
“But a whole new one would begin.”  
“You know I’d never kill anyone who didn’t deserve it.” Bruce said, irritated.  
“And how would you decide who deserves it?” Alfred asked. “And what would give you the right to decide?”  
“Alfred, monsters like Joker don’t deserve to live.”  
“Says who? You?” Alfred said, somewhat affronted. “Who is to say that one of these madmen can’t see the light? Perhaps one of them could do something to save a life rather than taking it. How would they ever get that chance if you don’t give it to them?”  
“Do you really think Joker would save anyone?”  
“Can you live with yourself knowing you never gave him the chance to try?”  
Bruce hung his head, knowing that Alfred was right, knowing too that given the opportunity, he doubted he could go through with it. Sometimes though… his thoughts were interrupted by the beeping of his computer. Turning back to the monitor, he saw a photo of NCIS Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs. As he paged through the files, a smile appeared on his lips. Too bad he’s not twenty years younger, he thought. While Bruce read through the dossier on Gibbs, Alfred made a quiet exit.  


* * *

  
“Yeah McGee,” Gibbs said answering his phone.  
“Boss, you’re not going to like this,” McGee said.  
“Tell me anyway.”  
“I’ve been looking for information on Batman,” McGee said, “and can’t find anything other than public knowledge. Even the Gotham City P.D. and D.A.’s office don’t know any more than the general public.”  
“Damnit,” Gibbs swore. “What about Gordon? Anything on him?”  
“Some men in his unit were investigated a while back, some questionable instances in his cases, but nothing overt. All-in-all, Boss, he looks clean.”  
“Yeah, that’s what I thought McGee. Keep looking though.”  
“Uh, Boss,” McGee said before Gibbs could disconnect. “There’s more.”  
“What?”  
“NCIS has been hacked.”  
“By who?” Gibbs asked suddenly concerned.  
“That’s the bad news Boss,” McGee said. He hated telling Gibbs bad news. “We don’t know. The trace died.”  
“It what?” Gibbs said confused not for the first time with McGee’s computer talk.  
“It died Boss,” McGee began. “Whoever hacked us had some serious hardware… The trace just stopped as soon as it began.”  
“What does that mean McGee?”  
“It means that unless they try again, we have no idea who did it or where they are.”  
“Was anything compromised?” Gibbs asked.  
“Uh, yeah.” McGee hated giving Gibbs worse news more than he hated giving him bad news.  
“Well?”  
“Boss, they downloaded our dossiers.” McGee winced, waiting for the explosion. Nothing came. “Uh, Boss?”  
“How much?”  
“Everything.”  
“Everything?”  
“Boss, they even got the information, we’re not allowed to read about ourselves.”  
“Does Vance know?”  
“Yeah, the guys in MTAC are working on it, but they’re getting nowhere.”  
“Damnit.”  
“Boss,” McGee said tentatively. “No offense, but you’re taking this better than I would have thought.”  
“I think I know who it was,” Gibbs said through gritted teeth. Keep looking into Batman and if anything else happens call me.”  
“Right Boss.”  
Gibbs closed his phone and looked towards the office Commissioner Gordon had disappeared into earlier. Cracking his jaw, he made his way to the office door. A young uniformed officer stood up as Gibbs approached raising his hand to stop him.  
“If you plan to have a long career, you’d better sit down,” Gibbs told him as he walked past and opened the door.  
“Get him back here right now.” He said pointing to Gordon.  
“Who the hell do you think you are barging in here like this?” Gordon asked as he put down the phone.  
“I want to talk to that bat man now!” Gibbs said stopping in front of Gordon’s desk.  
“We’ve been over this,” Gordon said getting up and walking around his desk. And you do not barge into my office and make demands like you’re MY boss.”  
With a slam of the door, Gordon rounded on Gibbs. “Now, let me explain something to you once and for all,” he said making certain that his finger was firmly planted in Gibbs’ chest. “This is your case, and you have a right to investigate it however you want.”  
“Glad you realize that,” Gibbs said. “No move your finger.”  
“But this is my city damnit,” Gordon said as if Gibbs hadn’t spoken. “And while you’re here, you will show me and my department respect. If you want us to help, fine! We’ll help. If you want us to back off and let you do the legwork, even better. But if you need anything else from me or my department, you will ask like a God damned civilized human being. You got that Special Agent Gibbs?”  
Gibbs looked as if he were about to murder. After staring at Gordon for a few seconds, he shook his head slightly.  
“Hell Gordon,” he said. “Since you put it that way.”  
Gordon gave a slight nod, followed by Gibbs. As Gordon moved back around his desk, he grabbed a couple of glasses and a bottle. After pouring a drink for him and Gibbs, he handed the Glass to the man across from him and they both sat.  
“Here’s the problem,” Gordon said after taking a drink of the bourbon. “I can turn that signal on and leave it on all month. If he doesn’t want to come, he won’t.”  
“I do need to talk to him Commissioner,” Gibbs said. “I think he just committed a federal offense.”  
“Agent Gibbs,” Gordon said. “I can personally vouch for him. He’s not a killer.”  
“That’s not what I’m talking about,” Gibbs said. Then seeing Gordon’s confused look, he continued. “NCIS was hacked today. The dossiers of my people were downloaded, and I think it was him.”  
“I don’t know everything he’s capable of,” Gordon said, “but it wouldn’t surprise me if it was him.”  
“Why?”  
“You’ve been trying to learn all you can about him right?”  
“There’s a big difference.”  
“Not from where he sits.”  
“He’s not an agent of the law,” Gibbs said, maybe a bit louder than he wanted.  
“Not officially,” Gordon said.  
“Not in any way,” Gibbs replied. “Hell, vigilantism, hacking federal databases, he’s a better crook than he would ever be a cop.”  
“Maybe,” Gordon said. “But the fact that he’s willing and able to go outside the rules every now and then, is what makes him so valuable to justice.”  
“Is it justice?” Gibbs asked. “What he does?”  
“Every major criminal Gotham City has sent to prison or Arkham Asylum since he came to town, is there because of him.”  
“How bad is the department that he’s even needed?” Gibbs asked.  
“Bad,” Gordon answered. “Sometimes I don’t really know who I can trust. I’m still trying to clean this department up Gibbs. It’s a slow process, but he’s helping.”  
“Well,” Gibbs said, as he emptied his class. “I’m gonna check in on my team. If you can, get me a face-to-face.” 


	3. The Analysis

 

 

Gibbs walked into the bullpen with a fresh cup of coffee. He noticed McGee was not present and assumed that he must be in the Multiple Threat Assessment Center, commonly called MTAC, working with the techs to find out who hacked their personnel files. As he rounded his desk, he sat his coffee down and pulled his weapon form his waistband. Once it was secured in his desk drawer, he grabbed his cup and looked expectantly to DiNozzo who had risen and walked to the center of the bullpen.  
“Well?” he asked.  
“Sorry Boss,” DiNozzo said as he worked the remote and brought the victim’s personnel photo on the main view screen. “Chief Petty Officer Robert Andrew Granger: two years into his second four-year hitch. Annapolis grad, but chose to go enlisted rather than accept a commission, which is weird really. I mean why go through all that work if you’re not gonna get-”  
“DiNozzo!” Gibbs said in a tone that meant Tony was getting off track.  
“Sorry Boss,” Tony said. “Again. Anyway, Granger’s fit rep is clean. No trouble since he joined and no trouble with anyone else. Has served on the Anzio for four years as leading main propulsion engineer.”  
“What was he planning to do in Gotham?” Gibbs asked.  
“His bunk mate said he was meeting someone ashore,” Ziva said coming over to join Tony. “Petty Officer Second Class, Jonathan Logan, shares Granger’s Bunk and they work opposite shifts in propulsion.”  
“Did Logan mention who Granger was meeting?” Gibbs asked.  
“Granger never mentioned a name,” Ziva answered. “But he did tell Logan that it was someone who was going to help him buy a house for his mother.”  
“A house in Gotham?” Tony asked. “Who would want that?”  
“Apparently it was a house in Gotham,” Ziva said. “Why else would they be meeting there?”  
“Well, it is a great place to get some good pizza,” Tony said.  
“And it happens that Gotham was where the Anzio was porting.” Gibbs said.  
“That too Boss,” Tony said, wiping the dreamy look from his face.  
“At any rate, I have put in calls to real estate agents in Gotham,” Ziva said. “I will be interviewing them tomorrow. To see who was meeting with Granger.”  
“You couldn’t get that information when you called?” Tony asked.  
“Apparently, Tony,” Ziva said looking at him. “There a rules about disclosing client information over the telephone. Or, so I have been told ad nauseous all day.”  
“Nauseum,” Tony corrected.  
“Whatever,” Ziva responded.  
“Tony,” Gibbs said rising from his chair. “You and Ziva go home. We’ll go back to Gotham tomorrow.”  
“We, Boss?” Tony asked.  
“Yeah, DiNozzo,” Gibbs said, pausing before going upstairs. “That’s where the realtors are.”  
Tony and Ziva watched as Gibbs stopped long enough to get retinal clearance into MTAC. As each grabbed their backpacks, Tony stopped and looked across the bullpen.  
“Where’s McGoo?” he asked.  
Ziva shrugged as she headed to the elevator.  


* * *

  
“Any luck McGee?” Gibbs asked stepping in behind his youngest agent.  
“Oh, Boss, uh no,” McGee said, turning around. “We’ve tried everything we can think of. I even accessed telephone, satellite, and cable company records to try to ascertain if any of their customers might have transmitted or received data to or from us.”  
“And?” Gibbs asked, wondering what McGee had just said.  
“Uh, well,” McGee said, “nothing. No public services on the Eastern Seaboard have shown any activity that would come near NCIS.”  
“How did we find out that we had been hacked?” Director Leon Vance asked coming up to stand beside Gibbs.  
“Well, Director,” McGee began. “I uh, had traps set on the team’s files in case someone tried accessing them.”  
“Why would you do that?” Vance asked.  
“Well,” McGee began, “since the situation with Colonel Bell and the Reynosa’s, I became concerned that someone could potentially gain access to our files under the auspice of official inquiry. So, I put a trap on the team’s files and Abby and Ducky in case someone tried to access them, I would be alerted and could find out who accessed them and possibly why.”  
“So the six of you are the only ones with traps on their files?” Vance asked.  
“Well uh,” McGee said becoming somewhat nervous. “I uh, also tagged Palmer’s file just in case, and E.J. and her team.”  
“And is that all?” Vance asked.  
“Uhm,” McGee said.  
“Who else McGee?”  
“Well…”  
“Spill it.” Gibbs said.  
“Well uh, yours too Director,” McGee said quietly. “But I assure you, I have never read anyone’s files other than Tony, Ziva, Gibbs, and mine.”  
“McGee,” Director Vance said stepping just a little closer. “You do realize that this borders on violation of several laws, including gaining access to files above your pay grade?”  
“Uh, yes Director, I-”  
“And thank you,” Director Vance said. “If you hadn’t done that, we may not have found out we had been compromised.”  
“Uh.”  
“Leon, I think I may know who did it,” Gibbs said. “McGee, Is there any other way for someone to hack into NCIS without having internet?”  
“Well, yes,” McGee answered. “But they’d have to have access to several layers of security protocols. Not to mention that they would have to actually enter the building.”  
“Check the visitor logs,” Vance said. “And compare them to surveillance footage.”  
“Right,” McGee said, sitting back down to the console.  
“What about from a remote location McGee?” Gibbs asked  
“Boss?”  
“Could he do it remotely without the internet?”  
McGee thought for a minute before answering. “If he had his own communications system, off the grid, then yeah but the back trace should have found him. He must have had a virus or something that stopped us once we started the trace.”  
“So NCIS servers have a virus?” Vance asked concerned. “And you’re just now sharing this?”  
“Well uh, Director,” McGee said turning to face his superiors. “The virus, if it was one would have been designed specifically to stop the trace. I did run a complete scan on the server when I got up here, as did Oswald and Patton. There is no virus on the server.”  
Vance looked at Gibbs with a quizzical expression. Gibbs shrugged and turned away.  
“Let me know if you turn anything up McGee,” he said as he left MTAC.  


* * *

  
After stopping to grab a fresh cup of coffee and a large Caf-Pow, Gibbs went down to see Abby Sciuto in the forensics lab. Per usual, he could hear Abby’s music when he got off the elevator, and it became nearly unbearable as he approached the lab. Entering the lab, he saw Abby bent over her microscope. He made to walk past her to turn down the radio, but was pre-empted by Abby raising her hand and clicking the remote to turn the music off.  
“Good evening Boss man,” Abby said without looking up.  
“What do you have Abs?” Gibbs asked setting her Caf-Pow down beside her.  
“You mean besides a huge jonesing for this?” she asked picking up her drink and taking a long pull on the straw.  
“Yes,” Gibbs answered with a smile.  
“Well,” Abby started. “Not much. Granger’s uniform was pretty clean except for the dirt and oils found on the dock where he fell. The hole where he was stabbed was burned through, but the edges are still pretty smooth, so the blade was pretty sharp.”  
“Any idea what kind of blade?” Gibbs asked.  
“Long sword,” Abby said. “Superheated by something, but that is what doesn’t make sense.”  
“Whadda ya mean?”  
“Well,” Abby began, starting to walk around her lab, “the charring indicates that the blade’s temperature was well over five hundred degrees. But that would mean, whatever the killer heated it with was close by, but according to Ziva’s crime-scene photos, there was nothing nearby that could have generated that type of heat.”  
“So maybe something portable?” Gibbs asked.  
“Maybe,” Abby said, “but it would have to be something that could disperse the heat quickly, without suspicion all over the sword.”  
“Like a torch or a flamethrower?”  
“No, a flamethrower would definitely be out,” Abby said. “Too suspicious, and besides, why heat a sword with a flame thrower when you can just heat the vic with it. And a torch is out of the question, the heat would have to have been applied evenly along the blade. A torch couldn’t do that because of the narrow beam of the flame.”  
“Then what?” Gibbs asked.  
“Well, if you could figure out how the guy had a full sized forge laying around unnoticed and then took it with him…”  
“Not likely,” Gibbs said. “Based on the T.O.D., Gordon’s witness arrived just after the murder. He woulda seen something like that.”  
“Maybe he did and isn’t saying,” Abby said. “Why else would he be avoiding talking to you?”  
“Maybe,” Gibbs said as he turned to leave.  
“Oh Gibbs,” Abby said stopping him. “I know you guys are going back to Gotham tomorrow. Can you pick something up for me?” Gibbs raised an eyebrow, waiting. “WayneTech has a new Raman spectro analyzer that would be the perfect playmate for Major Mass Spec. It can analyze a wide range of analytes, including drugs, prescription and over-the-counter, veterinary, illicit, and counterfeit, in dose form or in body fluids or tissue. They can analyze explosives, arson accelerants, chemical weapons agents and their signatures-"  
“How much Abs?” Gibbs interrupted.  
“Oh, nothing,” Abby said, going over to her locker. Running back to Gibbs, she holds up a credit card. “It’s for me, on me.”  


* * *

  
“Duck?” Gibbs asked as he went into autopsy.  
“Ah Jethro,” Ducky said, looking up from the body of Chief Petty Officer Granger. “Just in time. I was just about to close up our young petty officer here. Mr. Palmer, if you wouldn’t mind.”  
“Of course not doctor,” Autopsy assistant Jimmy Palmer said as Ducky removed his gloves and moved with Gibbs to one of the counters.  
“As we suspected Jethro,” Ducky began, “Mr. Granger died from a stab wound to the chest, and yes, the blade was heated.  
“Any idea how Duck?” Gibbs asked.  
“How was the blade heated?” Ducky asked for clarity.  
“Yeah.”  
“Well not as yet,” Ducky said. “However, I took tissue samples and sent them up to Abby by Timothy.”  
“Anything else strange?” Gibbs asked.  
“Not as yet,” Ducky said. “It seems like a straight forward stabbing, with the exception of the weapon used.”  
“Not very helpful Duck,” Gibbs said before taking a sip of his coffee.  
“I am sorry Jethro,” Ducky said. “There can’t always be something dazzling about a murder.”  
“But there is this time Dr. Mallard.” Palmer said from the autopsy table. Ducky and Gibbs went over to join him as he continued looking at Granger’s body.  
“What do you mean Mr. Palmer?” Ducky asked as he took his place next to his assistant.  
“This here,” Palmer said, using the needle to point to a charred piece of flesh close to the incision.  
“It’s just more charring Mr. Palmer,” Ducky said, looking at the mark.  
“No,” Palmer said. “Look, it’s like four or five millimeters further from the wound that the rest of the charring.”  
“Perhaps the flesh sizzled and spat a random piece of fat out,” Ducky said about to walk away again.  
“But Doctor,” Palmer said, turning to reach for the magnifying glass on the portable table nearby. “Please look, it has a pattern to it.”  
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ducky said, snatching the glass from Palmer. Ducky peered through the magnifying lens at the mark Palmer indicated and took a deep breath. “My God, Jethro.” Straightening, he handed the lens to Gibbs. “Mr. Palmer is right.”  
As Gibbs looked through the magnifying glass at the mark, it appeared slightly blurry to him. He adjusted the distance and angle of the lens until a shape formed before his eyes.  
“Is that a…” Gibbs asked squinting at the mark.  
“A horse head,” Ducky finished. “Or a knight chess piece.”  
“It’s really small to have that much detail,” Gibbs said.  
“Add to the fact that it was burned into the flesh,” Ducky said. “Jethro, whoever created the mark, did so with a great deal of skill. If you will excuse me, I need to take a sample up to Abby.” 


	4. Face to Face

As the car pulled up to the gate, a Marine stepped forwar to the driver’s side. The driver rolled down the window and handed the guard the identifications for himself and his passenger. A visual inspection confirmed the identity of the driver, so the Marine stepped toward the back door. As the window came down, the Marine got his first personal glimpse at one of the most powerful men in the free world.

“Mr. Fox,” the Marine said. “Welcome to the Navy Yard. Could you ask your driver to please pull forward for a vehicle inspection?”“Yes of course,” Lucius Fox said. After a nod from the man in the back seat, the limousine pulled forward into the inspection area, just inside the main gate. Fox and his driver were asked to step out, while a team of four Marines searched the interior, trunk, and underneath the vehicle. After a thorough inspection, a guard stepped forward with visitor passes and a parking pass for Fox and his driver. Once they were cleared, Fox ordered his driver to the headquarters of NCIS.

* * *

“Mr. Fox,” Director Vance said, extending his hand as he approached the man. “Welcome to NCIS. If you will, please follow me to the conference room?”

As Fox’s escort turned to leave, Vance led the business manager of Wayne Enterprises to the back halls and the conference room. Upon entering, Vance indicated a seat on the near side for Fox to sit, while he walked around to sit on the other side.“Now,” Vance said. “Please tell me what NCIS can do for Wayne Enterprises.”  
“Director Vance,” Fix began. “As you may have guessed, our CEO, Bruce Wayne has interests all over the world, and contributes a great deal of resources to many law-enforcement agencies.”  
“Yes,” Vance said. “I hear he has a veritable lock on the technologies in Gotham, Metropolis, New York, Los Angeles, and who knows how many other cities.”  
“Well,” Fox said, smiling. “A lock is putting it pretty strongly, but you will find some of our technology just about everywhere. Mr. Wayne has become concerned lately about the security of some of the federal government’s communications technology. In the wake of 9/11, he has ordered his R&D teams to develop computers, video conferencing, audio communications, including cell phones, software, and protocols that are, if you’ll pardon my humility, the most secure pieces of technology available today.”  
“And Mr. Wayne is just giving this technology to the Navy?” Vance asked, narrowing his eyes slightly.  
“That’s the thing, Director,” Fox said. “We want the entire government to have exclusive rights to the use of this technology.”  
“Then I assure you, you are talking to the wrong person,” Vance said. “What you need to do is bring a proposal before the Senate Appropriations Committee. They are the ones who sign off on major purchases for the government, not me.”  
“Well, you see,” Fox said, interrupting Vance from rising to his feet. “We want to bring the committee verifiable proof that the technology is as effective as promised. Mr. Wayne has heard that NCIS has been in Gotham recently, and decided that this agency would be the perfect test group for it.”  
“That’s not going to happen,” Vance said, narrowing his eyes a bit more and studying the man sitting across from him. “Mr. Fox, if the government buys your technology and places it at my disposal, I would be happy to use it, but NCIS cannot afford the interruptions that replacing our current equipment would cause. I would certainly be negligent in allowing an untested and unapproved bit of technology into this agency that may or may not fail at a critical moment during one of our operations.”  
“But Director,” Fox said. “Surely you see the benefit of having-”  
“An unsolicited piece of technology that I have not seen or tested myself in an agency that is vital to most U.S. Maritime criminal investigations around the world?” Vance interrupted his visitor. “Mr. Fox, I am truly sorry, but please inform Mr. Wayne that he will have to find another agency to be his guinea pig.”  
“That is unfortunate,” Fox said, rising from his seat, and extending his hand. “Perhaps, another time then.”  
“We’ll see,” Vance said, shaking the other man’s hand.  
As the two exited, the conference room, Fox’s cell phone rang. Extracting it from his pocket, he looked at the screen.  
“Well,” he said with a smile. “It appears Mr. Wayne does not wish to wait to hear bad news. You’ll excuse me Director?”  
“Yes, of course,” Vance said. “If you like, you can take it in the conference room. I’ll send an escort for you momentarily.”  
“Thank you,” Fox said, stepping back into the conference room and placing his phone to his ear. “Bruce, I thought I told you I’d call when I got out of the meeting.”  
Once the door closed, Vance secured the lock and pulled out his own phone. Dialing the number to his office, he informed his assistant to have an escort come and show Lucius Fox out of the building. As he rounded the corner of the bull pen, he remembered that Gibbs’s team was en route to Gotham. He quickly changed directions and called for the elevator.  


* * *

  
The two men stood alone on top of the roof of the police station. Each looking in a different direction, each knowing they were looking the wrong way.  
“What time did he say?” Gibbs asked.  
“Ten-thirty,” Gordon answered.  
“It’s eleven-forty-five,” Gibbs announced, looking at his watch.  
“Eleven forty six,” Gordon corrected.  
“So, how do you signal him in the day time?” Gibbs asked, turning to look at Gordon.  
“If he’s out in the daylight, someone’s usually got him too busy to answer a signal from me.”  
“Fortunately,” a new voice said, “the only trouble keeping me out today is the two of you.”  
Both Gordon and Gibbs spun around to face the new comer. Gibbs was taken aback by the sheer brass of the guy. Just looking at him, Gibbs could tell that the guy took what he did seriously. The getup was custom made, and looked like rubber. Gibbs suspected that if what Gordon had been telling him about the Batman over the past couple of hours was true, the man had to have some lightweight armour under the costume, or based on what he saw now, maybe the armour was part of it.  
“Special Agent L. J. Gibbs,” Gordon said. “Meet Batman.”  
“Good to meet you Special Agent Gibbs,” Batman said, extending his hand.  
“Oh, that’s because you don’t know me yet,” Gibbs said stepping past the masked man toward the door. “Let’s go,” he said looking back at the others.  
Commissioner Gordon led the way to the main interrogation room, followed by Batman, with Gibbs bringing up the rear. Once there, he held the door open for the other two and made to step in after Gibbs.  
“That’s alright Commissioner,” Gibbs said holding up a hand to stop Gordon. “We’ll be alright by ourselves.” Seeing the commissioner’s reaction he added, “I promise.”  
As Gordon walked away fuming, Gibbs closed the door to interrogation and stepped over to the table where Batman was already seated. Gibbs took a seat on the other side and opened the file he had left there earlier.  
“So,” he began. “You arrived at the scene moments after the murder. And you stated that you did not see the perpetrator.”  
“That’s right,” Batman said.  
Gibbs looked at him for a long moment. Something about this guy was unsettling. Batman sat with perfect posture across the table watching Gibbs as intently as Gibbs watched him. Gibbs studied the man’s face, or at least the little of it he could see. After getting past the distraction of the black, what was that paint? Around the man’s eyes, he realized the irises were actually blue.  
“How did you know there would be a body?” Gibbs asked.  
“I was nearby and heard the victim scream out,” Batman answered. “I assume that it was his dying scream.”  
A few more minutes of the two men studying each other. Batman watched as Gibbs’s eyes roved all over his face. He fought the urge to check his cowl and make sure it was still intact. Something about this guy made him feel as if every one of his secrets were about to come out. If he didn’t do something, Gibbs might try to rip the mask off him.  
“What does the L. J. stand for?” he asked the federal agent.  
“You tell me your name,” Gibbs said, “I’ll tell you mine.”  
“Huh,” Batman grunted in the closest he’d come to a laugh while wearing the mask in a long time. “I guess our secrets are safe for today.”  
“Maybe not,” Gibbs replied. “Did you know Petty Officer Granger?”  
“No.”  
“What were you doing at the port that night?”  
“I was a half a block away when I heard him scream,” Batman said. “The docks and the adjacent riverfront are notorious for criminal activity.”  
“You were a half a block away when you heard a man’s dying scream,” Gibbs asked disbelieving.  
“I have special equipment embedded in my suit. Helps me see better, hear more, protects me from getting hurt too badly.”  
“I’ll bet,” Gibbs said. “Where did you get the equipment?”  
“I made most of it.”  
“Impressive,” Gibbs said, raising his eyebrows as he looked back down at the file and took a couple of notes. Where did you learn to do that?”  
“Very clever,” Batman said.  
“Sorry?” Gibbs said looking back at the man.  
“I give you just a little information and you try to get background information on me.”  
“I’ve come to the decision that all of your mask wearing, building climbing, illegal as hell vigilantism is not my problem,” Gibbs said to the man with a level gaze. “What is my problem, is a dead petty officer and a witness who is too afraid someone might find out his real name to give me the information I need to find out who did it.”  
“Hmm,” Batman said meeting Gibbs’s gaze with the same intensity. “One thing I have learned about people who kill in Gotham is that only the special, more elite psychopaths will do it in so unique a manner that sets them apart from the rest.”  
“Not a lot of stabbings in Gotham?” Gibbs asked.  
“Too many,” Batman answered. “But few with a long sword. Fewer still with a heated long sword.”  
“How do you know what weapon was used?” Gibbs asked suspiciously.  
“Logical deduction,” Batman answered. “Wound was too big for most knives, too narrow for a short sword, and too clean to be a broad sword or makeshift weapon.”  
“What else did you notice?”  
“Whoever did it was a member of the Order of St. Dumas.”  
“How do you figure that, and who is the Order of St. Dumas?”  
“The weapon was heated,” Batman said. “Probably hot enough to flame or appear to be on fire.”  
“I suppose you have a suspect?”  
“No,” Batman said. “The last guy I know who used a weapon like that is dead. If the Order has replaced him, I don’t know who they chose.”  
“You’ve dealt with them before?” Gibbs asked.  
“A couple of times,” Batman answered.  
“What else do you know about them?”  
“If it was Azrael, the Order’s assassin, then he perceived your petty officer as an agent of evil.”  
Gibbs stared at Batman for a long moment before looking back at the file and pulling out a sheet with Petty Officer Granger’s picture on it.  
“This man had an clean record in the Navy,” Gibbs began. “From what we have gathered, he has done nothing in the civilian world to indicate that he deserved to be killed, let alone be perceived as an agent of evil.” The last sentence was practically spat out as Gibbs slapped the paper down onto the table.  
“Agent Gibbs,” Batman said. “Please understand, it is not important whether your sailor was evil or not. The suspect may not even be the new Azrael. We may be dealing with a totally new element here.”  
At that moment, Gibbs’s cell phone rang. Taking it from his pocket, he noticed that it was Abby calling. He fought down his annoyance as he realized Abby had no way of knowing that he was in the middle of an interrogation.  
“Yeah Abs,” Gibbs said as he put the phone to his ear.  
“Gibbs, I’ve got something for you,” Abby said almost breathless. “He’s tried it again, and I know who it is!”  
“Abs,” Gibbs said. “Calm down a minute.” Turning back to Batman he rose from his seat. “I have to take this, but I need a way to contact you if I need more information.”  
“How about if I call you if anything comes up?” Batman said rising himself.  
Gibbs put the phone back up to his ear. “Abs, I’ll call you right back.” Closing his phone, he rounded on the man in front of him. “Listen punk,” He spat getting as close to the other man as possible without touching. “Regardless of the leeway Gordon gives you, and your own inflated ego, you are a person of interest in this investigation. I don’t give a damn about who you really are right now, but I promise you, if you killed that kid, I will not only know your real name, I will have you locked in the bowels of Blackgate, where I’m told you may have a lot of fans. Now. Give me a way to contact you that doesn’t involve raising my electric bill.” 


	5. Concerns

Bruce Wayne sat behind his desk at the corporate headquarters of Wayne Enterprises. He was becoming increasingly frustrated with himself every time he retried reading the reports that had come in while he was out. Five times now, he had started reading this TPS report from software designs at WayneTech. Each time he started reading it, his mind kept wandering back to the meeting he had earlier.  
What is it about that guy, he thought. I never feel unsettled when I have the suit on. No one has ever made me feel so exposed. Like he had ripped away the mask and stared through me. Bruce shook his head and tried for the sixth time to read the report in his hand. I should know better, he thought. It’s not like he’s Faith.  
Bruce barely got past the first sentence this time when he felt a vibration in his jacket pocket. That was quick, he mused.  
“More questions already?” he asked putting the phone to his ear and pressing a button to lock his office down.  
“Just wanted to make sure I didn’t have to chase you down,” Gibbs answered. “But while I have you I gotta ask one thing.”  
“Go ahead.”  
“Do you plan to hack into my files anymore?”  
“What do you mean?” Bruce asked a bit unsettled. No way had they tracked it.  
“Yeah,” Gibbs said. “That’s what I thought.”  
“Do you have anything important you need to ask me Agent Gibbs?” Bruce asked. “If not, I have work I need to do.”  
“Yeah,” Gibbs said. “Enjoy your work. If I find out you’ve been in our computers again, I’m gonna be pissed.”  
The line went dead before he could respond. Bruce stared at the phone in wonder. What is it about that guy?  
After putting away the phone, Bruce hit the button to release the locks on his office doors. Before he could even sit down, the side door opened and Lucius Fox walked in.  
“You mind telling me what you’ve done to piss off NCIS?” Lucius asked taking a seat in front of Bruce’s desk.  
“What makes you think it was me?” Bruce asked him setting aside the unread TPS report.  
“Well, someone pissed them off,” Lucius said. “I made the free hardware offer you suggested and the director all but shoved me out the door.”  
“Maybe he was having a bad day,” Bruce said.  
“Maybe,” Lucius replied. “Or, maybe someone pissed him off.”  
“It may have something to do with the sailor that was killed the other night,” Bruce shrugged.  
“Uh huh,” Lucius said. “Listen, whatever it is you think you’re doing right now, remember one thing.”  
“What’s that?” Bruce asked after a pause.  
“One of these days,” Lucius began, “the coincidence of Wayne Enterprise’s contacts with whatever nonsense is going on will eventually be noticed. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone hasn’t already. You’re not butting heads with a group of people who will willingly turn a blind eye just because it’s convenient.”  
“It’s the price of business Lucius,” Bruce said. “Sometimes you have to take a chance if you want it to pay off.”  
“Bullshit,” Lucius said. “We both know that your back door activities have nothing to do with the business. Now we have a great opportunity to gain another lucrative government contract. I’m going to try a couple of more agencies as the testing grounds before going to the Senate. Are there any that you can think of I should avoid?”  
“I’d stay away from NCIS for a while Lucius.”  
Lucius stared at Bruce for a moment before standing. “Alright,” he said. “And don’t worry about the TPS report. I already sent your recommendations to Software Designs.”  
“That was nice of you.”  
“Nice?” Lucius asked. “That report was on your desk for two weeks before I finally got tired of waiting.”  
“Two weeks?” Bruce asked, looking at the top of the report.  
“Don’t worry,” Lucius said as he stepped through the door. “I forge your signature better than you do.”  


* * *

  
“Ok Abs, tell me what you have,” Gibbs said.  
“An intense craving for a Caf-Pow, and no one to fix it,” Abby said smartly.  
“Go get one on my tab after you tell me what you found,” Gibbs said.  
“Righto Boss man,” Abby said, tapping a few keys on her computer. “Our mysterious hacker tried to access the case files. McGee’s back trace kept pinging off servers all around the world. But the trace kept running until it came to the original source and we found him.”  
“Who was it?”  
“That’s the cool part,” Abby said. “It came back to a DNS that doesn’t exist.”  
“Abby,” Gibbs warned. He hated it when she played games with him over the phone.  
“No I’m serious Gibbs,” Abby said. “The DNS server I back traced it to doesn’t exist. It’s like he used it for just this one attack then it disappeared. Like a server that shuts down operating after googling one time.”  
“This guy did more than google us Abs.” Gibbs said. “I thought you said you knew who did it.”  
“Way to pay attention sir,” Abby said with a smile. “When I pinged the DNS after the attempt, I got back an error. To be exact, I got an invalid type DNS error.”  
“Abby,” Gibbs said again.  
“Basically,” Abby said ignoring Gibbs’s warning. “What it means is that if the guy doesn’t go online, we can’t find him. But since we traced him back to this DNS, we know where to start when he comes back online.”  
“How does that tell us who it is Abs?” Gibbs asked, getting frustrated.  
“It doesn’t,” Abby said. “But the DNS that it came back to was www.batman.net.”  
“That’s not really a surprise Abs,” Gibbs said. “We figured it was him anyway.”  
“Yes,” Abby said, “but now we have proof.”  
“Yeah,” Gibbs agreed, “alright Abs, good work.”  
“Before you go,” Abby practically shouted, knowing Gibbs was on the verge of ending the call. “Did you get my Raman?”  
“Working on it Abs,” Gibbs said before closing his phone.  


* * *

  
Bruce couldn’t get the NCIS agent out of his head. He looked at his reflection in the mirrored walls of the elevator. The face that looked back at him was worried. Not at all the billionaire playboy image he had cultivated for this persona. As the doors opened he tried to adopt his usual carefree demeanor, but it proved to be impossible. His eyes were drawn straight to the reception desk where the man who had been on his mind all morning stood talking to the information tech.  
What’s life without risk? He asked himself, placing Bruce Wayne’s trademark carefree grin on his face. As he approached the desk, he was relieved to hear that Agent Gibbs was not in fact there to ask about him.  
“I’m not sure exactly what it does,” Gibbs was telling the tech. “It’s for my lab. My tech said it was a Roman something or other.”  
“I’m sorry sir,” the information tech said. “But none of WayneTech’s products are imported from Italy.”  
Gibbs looked as though he was getting frustrated. Bruce’s smile became genuine as he realized that the agent was likely inquiring about something that he had no idea about.  
“Do you have any forensic analyzers at all?” Gibbs asked.  
“We have several types of analyzers,” the tech answered. “But most are designed for research analysis. We certainly do not have anything available to the public.”  
“Ok,” Gibbs said. “Do you have a brochure or something I can look at? My forensics analyst said that you guys made the thing she wanted.”  
“Maybe I can help,” Bruce said, stepping up to the desk.  
“Mr. Wayne,” the tech said. “This is Mr. Gibbs from CSI. He’s looking for some type of analyzer for his forensics lab.”  
“Mr. Gibbs,” Bruce said extending his hand. “I’m Bruce Wayne. Let’s take a look at some of our forensics analyzers.”  
“Special agent Gibbs,” Gibbs said taking the billionaire’s hand. “And I’m from NCIS, not CSI.”  
“NCIS?” Bruce asked playing dumb.  
“Naval Criminal Investigation Services,” Gibbs asked.  
“Ah,” Bruce said. “I think we just sent someone to sell some communications equipment to you guys.”  
“Not my department,” Gibbs said staring at the man. “Have we met before Mr. Wayne?”  
“I don’t believe so,” Bruce said, fighting to keep his pulse steady. “I’ve never been in the Navy.”  
“There’s something,” Gibbs said. “I can’t put my finger on.”  
“Just one of those faces, I guess,” Bruce said, turning to lead Gibbs through the halls. “Our forensic toys are back this way. What precisely was it you were looking for?  
“My forensics analyst said something about a Roman analyzer or something like that,” Gibbs said following the mogul.  
“Roman analyzer?” Bruce asked. “Never heard of it. What exactly did he need it for?”  
“She said that it was something like her mass spec.” Gibbs said, feeling uncomfortable. “It’s supposed to analyze drugs, chemicals, and all kinds of stuff.”  
“Sounds like a mass spectrometer.” Bruce said leading Gibbs through a set of doors. “Here we have a wide array of spectrometers that analyze everything from DNA to blood cells.”  
Gibbs stopped short. He felt like he was in some sort of technology hell. Or one of Abby or McGee’s wet dreams. Either way, he was somewhere he shouldn’t be.  
“Hold on,” Gibbs said, fishing his phone out of his pocket and dialing. “Abs,” he said after the connection was made. “Can you tell this guy what it is you want?” a pause, then “Great.”  
Gibbs handed his phone to Wayne.  
“Yes, what can we get for you?” he asked.  
“I need a portable Raman Spectroscope,” Abby’s voice came through the phone. “Preferably with an ergonomic design, but that’s not a deal breaker.”  
“I think I may have what you need,” Bruce said. “What’s your price range?”  
“Like six grand?” Abby said.  
“I think I have just what you need,” Bruce said with a smile. “If you like I can have it shipped to your lab today.”  
“Awesome,” Abby said. “Now let me talk to Gibbs.”  
Bruce smiled wider as he handed the phone back to Gibbs.  
“Yeah Abs,” the agent said. “I just wanted to make sure you got what you wanted.” Gibbs paused before continuing. “No. Keep it. I want to take a look later.”  
After closing his phone, Gibbs looked at Bruce and extracted Abby’s credit card. “Where do I go to pay?”  
“You can give the information to the woman at reception,” Bruce said, opening the door for Gibbs.  
“Thanks,” Gibbs said as he stepped out. “I’ll see ya around.”  
Bruce froze in place as Gibbs walked down the hallway. What did he mean by that? He asked himself. A platitude or does he know? Dammit, what was I thinking?  
Bruce went the other direction and headed for the back entrance of the building. With luck he can slip out and get to the cave without Gibbs or one of his agents spotting him. As he stepped out the back door, the same phone he used to speak with Gibbs earlier rang again. Dammit, Bruce thought. He’s calling to gloat that he’s figured it out.  
Fishing the phone out of his pocket, he looked at the display. It was from the cave. Alfred, he thought.  
“Yes,” he said bringing the phone to his ear.  
“Wherever you are, get to a television,” his butler said before the line went dead.  
Worried, Bruce made his way back inside and went to the media services section.  
“Bring up a news channel on one of the monitors,” he told the director as he came into the control room. The technician did as he was told, bringing GNN up on the main screen.  
“The attack occurred in broad daylight outside Gotham Realty here in Gotham,” A reporter was saying. “Sources indicate that a federal agent had just visited Winslow at his work ten minutes before the attack. No word yet on the agency the official was from, but we now know that Robert Winslow of Gotham Realty has been murdered by an unknown assailant. Witnesses say that Winslow was stabbed in the chest with a sword.”  
“Dammit,” Bruce swore before turning to leave the control room.  
Bruce made his way to his office, where he kept a spare suit. He had to get to the scene before Gibbs. Once in the office, he once again pressed the privacy button on his desk before pressing another button that accessed a hidden closed behind a bookcase. 


	6. The Dark Knight

 

 

I sat atop the building and watched as they all descended on the scene. They were all here, the Commissioner, the Navy cops, and Him. He was crouched on another rooftop, out of sight to everyone but me. I saw him watching them. I saw him as he paid close attention to the Fed. An interesting twist. There’s something about the Fed, he admires. I can use that. I divide my attention between him and the scene below. I saw them look over the body. My work. I took a big risk killing him in broad daylight in front of witnesses. Maybe not though. People like Joker, Penguin, Scarecrow, and others have already trained the people of Gotham not to get involved. He has them convinced that he will protect them. He protected me once. Then he let me die. Then he betrayed me. Look at him. He should know by now that it’s me. That’s all I need. Next, I’ll do for him what he did for me. I’ll make him do my work. Then I’ll let him die.  


* * *

  
Gibbs leaned down to whisper something to the Gotham ME. No need for the Navy to be involved, except this murder is so similar to the petty officer. Batman watched as Dr. Fields waited used a magnifying glass to look closely at the wound. He’d have to find out what that was about later. Nora looked up to Gibbs and nodded her head. She stood and waved over the morgue techs to load up the body. If the murder was connected, Batman assumed the body would be transported to DC. He’d have to get those files too. Might try the direct approach this time.  
Batman watched as the NCIS agents continued photographing the scene. It was once again out of Gordon’s hands. He stepped back from the ledge and turned to leave. What was that? He asked spinning back around. On the rooftop two buildings down, he thought he saw something. He scanned the building now. He saw nothing there. It might’ve been his imagination. He turned again and walked across the roof. Just as he was about to leap off, he heard the door behind him open.  
“They’re connected,” Gordon’s voice told him.  
“I must be getting old,” he said turning around.  
“I was watching the other rooftops,” Gordon replied. “So was Gibbs. This one was the only one we couldn’t really see. We figured you’d be up here.”  
“He sent you up here?”  
“He knows I came, but no one sent me.”  
“What can you tell me?”  
“Gibbs had her look for something on the wound,” Gordon said, running a hand through his hair. “Something they found on Granger’s body.”  
“What?”  
“He didn’t tell me,” Gordon said. “I’ll ask Nora when they leave.”  
“Gibbs and one of his people have a room here. He’s not leaving until he finds out who did it.”  
“You know who did it yet?” Gordon asked.  
“I had an idea,” Batman answered. “But I’m not sure who it is specifically. You remember Azrael?”  
“Vividly,” Gordon said with a huff.  
“The one you knew isn’t around anymore,” Batman said. “But I think the Order of St. Dumas has gotten themselves a new one.”  
“What happened to the old one?”  
“I’ve heard he’s dead.”  
“We both know that dead ain’t necessarily dead here.”  
“True,” Batman said looking down. “I doubt that it’s him, but it’s definitely someone connected to his past.”  
“You think Gibbs can bring him in?” Gordon asked.  
“I think if Gibbs does find out who’s behind this,” Batman said, looking toward the front of the building. “He or someone on his team will get badly hurt trying to bring them in.”  
“You need to get me a file on this so I can give it to him,” Gordon said. “We can’t let him get into something this dangerous without some kind of warning.”  
Batman stood and thought for a moment. Nodding his head, he turned once again to the edge of the roof.  
“Have him at Police Headquarters at dusk.” With that, Batman leapt over the edge and Gordon turned to take the more traditional route down the stairs.  


* * *

  
I was wrong before. He’s looking where I want them to look. I thought he was better than this. It doesn’t matter. It is time to let him know who I am, at least who I am now. After all, he made me like this. He saved me. He let me into his world. Then, he let me go. He let me die. He’s gone about with his life. Every night he’s saving the innocent and catching the guilty. What about punishment? What about justice? He goes around doing what he wants and feels nothing for those whose lives he affects. Now it’s time he felt something. Now, it’s time he was punished. It’s his time for justice. I’m back now. I’m better. I am Gotham’s TRUE Dark Knight. And he will feel every bit of my darkness.  


* * *

  
Batman sat at his workstation going through every file he had on the organization known as the Order of St. Dumas. He had been trying, unsuccessfully, to try to find their server and hack into it. Maybe he could find out who the current Azrael is. While he searched, he printed out the necessary information for Gibbs.  
“Sir,” Alfred said coming up behind him. “You have a package.”  
“From who?” Batman asked.  
“No return, sir,” Alfred said.  
Batman turned in his chair and looked at the package suspiciously. On the top of the wrapping was a bat stenciled, precisely the same design on his suit. Rising from his seat, he reached out to take the package from Alfred gingerly.  
“You should have come get me right away Alfred,” he told his friend. “It could have been trapped.”  
“Considering it was delivered to the house with that marking,” Alfred said, following Batman across the cave. “I thought it prudent to take it off the doorstep as quickly as I could.”  
“I appreciate that,” Batman said approaching a worktable. “I just wish you hadn’t put yourself at risk.”  
Batman gently placed the twelve-inch cube on the worktable before grabbing a handheld explosives detector. Running the device all over the box, Batman checks the readout.  
“The sniffer can’t find any explosive residue,” Batman said, more to himself than Alfred. “No suspect ingredients.” Picking up the package, he took it and placed it into the parcel x-ray scanner. The image that came up on the screen surprised the man behind the mask, but he showed no outward signs of his surprise.  
“Thank you Alfred,” he said, opening the hatch to retrieve the package and turning from the display. “I have to go check on something.”  
“I take it we are not in danger of blowing up sir,” Alfred said. “But we are in danger are we not?”  
“Not you,” Batman said. “Go make sure the penthouse in the city is set up. I’ll see you there this evening.”  
As Batman got into his car, Alfred sighed and headed back upstairs.  
“Bloody pompous stump,” the older man mumbled. “Thinks that if he doesn’t tell me, I won’t know how much trouble he’s in.”  


* * *

  
I’m amazed. He changed the access codes, but not the security. It was nothing getting into the cave again. The urge to kill him was powerful. How poetic to put him down in his own home. His true home. No. It won’t happen like that. I want him to suffer first. I’ll take away someone he admires. Then I’ll take someone he likes. I’ll hurt him most when I take someone he loves. The beauty of it all? He’ll do all of the work himself. Then, when he’s too blind to fight back, I’ll take him. I’ll feed off his anger, his pain, his fear, and his fury. He will not walk away. He’ll just go away.  


* * *

  
The Batmobile sped towards Gotham Central Police Headquarters. The man driving concentrated on the route so his mind would not wander to where he didn’t want it. It didn’t help. The image on the x-ray display kept returning to him, making him press the accelerator harder. He had to get to Gibbs. He had to warn him. As Batman rounded the corner of Twenty-Seventh Street, he pushed the vehicle as hard as he could to roar up the street, swerving maniacally to avoid hitting other vehicles and pedestrians. He had called Gordon before he even exited the cave. He knew Gibbs was there, safe, and he knew Gordon would keep him there until he got there.  
The Batmobile screeched to a halt in front of Gotham Central and Batman was out of it before the engine completely shut off. Normally, he would have gotten here via the rooftops, but he didn’t want Gibbs exposed to the killer. Batman rushed through the doors, nearly dropping the package as he bumped a couple of officers who were coming out. No time for the elevator, he ran for the stairs. Once on the thirteenth floor, Batman stopped short seeing an intact Gibbs and Jim Gordon standing outside Gordon’s office. Still carrying the package as if it were a fragile egg, Batman purposely walked past the duo into the office.  
“This must be serious for you to come up the stairs,” Gordon quipped, closing the door.  
“Special Agent Gibbs is in danger,” Batman said without preamble. This package was delivered to me today.”  
As Gordon and Gibbs moved closer to the desk, Batman opened the package. Both men stepped back immediately shocked by the contents.  


* * *

  
“Tony,” Gibbs’s voice snapped. “Get McGee and Ziver and get back to DC ASAP.”  
“Boss, what’s going on?” his lead agent asked.  
“Just do it,” Gibbs said. “I need everyone back at the Navy Yard looking into the backgrounds of these two men. I want connections other than the fact that they had a business arrangement.”  
“Boss,” Tony said a little bemused. “We can actually do that better from here in Gotham.”  
“DiNozzo,” Gibbs said. “I want you three back in DC now. This is not a negotiation.”  
“Right Boss,” Tony said. “But how are you getting back? We only brought your car.”  
“I’ll rent a car Tony,” Gibbs said. “Now go.”  
“Yes Boss,” Tony said to empty air. Gibbs was never good at saying goodbye, but there were other clues that told Tony his boss was worried about something. Considering his options and the possible fallout, he made a quick decision. “McGoo!”  
“Yeah,” McGee said, leaving the woman he was talking to and coming over to join Tony.  
“Boss wants you and Ziva back at NCIS double time,” Tony said looking as though he were planning something he was gonna get a head slap for. “And make sure Abby gets her thingy when you get there.”  
“Uhm,” McGee said. “Did he say why?”  
“She paid for it, she might as well have it,” Tony said trying to deflect the question. Seeing McGee’s annoyed look, he continued. “He wants the two of you going through everything you can find on Granger and Winslow. There has to be some connection other than Granger wanting to buy his mom a house.”  
“And, what about you?” McGee asked.  
“He wants me at Gotham Central,” Tony said with a quick shake of his head. “I think he’s got a lead.”  
“Well then shouldn’t we all go-?”  
“Hey McGee,” Tony interrupted. “We’ve got the entire Gotham P.D. to back us up.”  
“But-”  
“The next but I want from you is yours moving to the car,” Tony said in his rare no-nonsense tone.  
“Right,” McGee said, only slightly flustered by Tony’s “serious” tone.  
A few minutes later, Tony watched as McGee and Ziva headed off in Gibbs’s sedan. The kid’s growing up, he thought to himself. A couple of years ago, that tone woulda left the Wee Probie Timmy stuttering and running for the car. Tony gives a short laugh and smile as he opens his phone to call a cab. 


	7. Behind the Mask

  
  
  
  
  


Gibbs, Gordon and Batman stared at the contents of the package. The grisly visage made Gordon shudder. Gibbs took his pen out of his jacket pocket and poked a bit to turn it around to better examine it.  
“Well,” he said. “One thing is certain.”  
“Yeah?” Batman asked.  
“Whoever it is, he’s very good.”  
“Good?” Gordon asked.  
“Yeah,” Gibbs said. “Except for the teeth, it looks just like me.”  
Gibbs put on a pair of latex gloves and reached out to pick up the replica of his head. Looking into the mouth, he saw that the teeth were actually dentures. The tongue and skin felt like textured latex. The hair felt like nylon.  
“Where did you find this?” Gibbs asked.  
“It was delivered to me,” Batman answered.  
“Delivered where?” Gibbs asked.  
“To my home.”  
“I’m gonna need a better answer than that,” Gibbs said.  
“Too bad.”  
“Listen,” Gibbs said, “we need to get to your place and process it. See if the guy left anything else behind that can help us find out who he is.”  
Dammit, Batman thought. I should have thought of that. Aloud he said, “That’s already being taken care of.” What is it about this guy that is throwing me off my game?  
“By whom?” Gibbs asked, getting more annoyed by the second.  
“I have friends,” Batman said.  
“Commissioner,” Gibbs said, turning to Gordon. “Can we have a moment alone?”  
Gordon looked to Batman, who gave him a subtle nod. “Sure,” he said. “Not like I have a crime to investigate, or this is my office or anything.” As he opened the door, he turned back to the other two men. “If one thing gets broken in here, I’m gonna shoot you both.” Once he was outside and the door was closed, Gibbs rounded on Batman.  
“I have told you before, I have no idea who you really are and I don’t care,” he said stepping as close to Batman as possible without actually touching the other man. “Whatever it is you do here, is between you and Gordon, but I have a dead sailor and civilian and I have to find their killer. Knowing your little secrets means so little to me, I can’t even express it. The fact remains that whoever sent you my head obviously knows who you are.”  
“Yes,” Batman said. “That means these deaths were meant to get my attention. He wants this to be personal.”  
“Yeah?” Gibbs asked. “Well, I’m about to make it personal too. Your life here is just that, yours, but I need to know certain things to help me in this investigation. I give you my word, if you’re not involved, I’ll leave Gotham when this is over, and you and your personal life will never have to worry about me again.”  
Batman stood and stared at Gibbs for a long moment before nodding his head. Stepping past the older man, he opened the door to the commissioner’s office.  
“I hope you aren’t claustrophobic,” he said by way of an invitation.  
* * *  
Tony pulled his rental car up in front of police headquarters and moved to kill the ignition. When he spotted Gibbs leaving the building with Batman, he stopped and decided to watch them. The two other men walked up to the most unique vehicle Tony had ever seen. It looked like… Hell, he couldn’t tell you what it looked like. This was the most uniquely designed vehicle Tony had ever seen. While he watched, Gibbs and Batman got into the vehicle.  
“What are ya thinkin’ Boss?” Tony asked as he put his rental in gear. “Getting’ in cars with strangers never works out good.”  
Tony followed the two to the first intersection, allowing a couple of cars to separate them. When the light changed, Batman made a sharp left turn and Tony followed. Within a block, the other vehicle had pulled so far ahead that Tony had to accelerate just to keep them in sight. By the end of the second block, Tony was tired of playing. He sped up as fast as the Honda he was driving would allow, not gaining on the other car at all. By the time, they left the urban area Gibbs and Batman were out of sight completely. Tony kept the accelerator on the floor as he fished out his cell phone and dialed Abby’s lab.  
“Tony,” Abs said when she picked up. “What’s going on there?”  
“Listen Abs,” Tony said. “I’m following someone that I’m not sure I trust.” He didn’t want to tell Abs that Gibbs was with his suspect. He didn’t need her worrying. “I’m on Highway Thirty-Six, heading east out of Gotham. Can you MapQuest the area and tell me what’s out this way?”  
He heard some quick tapping of Abby’s keyboard before she answered, “Not much Tony, Some industrial areas, a couple of farms, and then almost nothing.”  
“Almost nothing isn’t nothing Abs,” Tony said.  
“Well, unless you count what looks like a huge private estate and then the ocean,” Abby said. “But the estate isn’t exactly on Thirty-Six. It’s like on a private road.”  
“Private estate?” Tony asked. “Whose?”  
“Hold on,” Abby said typing some more. “Oh, holy crap.”  
“What Abby?”  
“Tony, the location comes back to an address, One-Thousand-Seven Mountain Drive. That is the personal residence of one Bruce Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises.”  
“I’ll call ya back Abs,” Tony said and hung up. “That makes a lot of sense,” he said to himself. “Who else but a billionaire could afford all that crap?”  
* * *  
“So, are you gonna tell me who has such a personal grudge against you,” Gibbs began, “Bruce?”  
“What?” Batman said, nearly steering the vehicle off the road.  
“Relax,” Gibbs said with a smile. “It’s like I said, I don’t give a rat’s ass who you really are. What you do here is not my jurisdiction.”  
“How?” Batman asked.  
“The eyes,” Gibbs said. “Makeup aside, you can’t hide your eyes.”  
“A trained observer,” Batman said.  
“Just a good cop,” Gibbs replied.  
“I’ve kept this secret for years.”  
“Not from everyone.”  
“Apparently.”  
“So?”  
“A few years ago,” Batman began. “I came across a guy, claiming to be an agent of justice. He called himself Azrael. When he died, his son took his place. They were a part of a pseudo-religious sect called the Order of St. Dumas. What they were or did is not very important, because the Son turned his back on the Order. He used to help me sometimes. He went off to work on his own in another city and eventually died.”  
Gibbs just watch as Batman talked, waiting for the man to get to the point.  
“He used flaming swords when he fought,” Batman continued. “I’m thinking that whoever our killer is, he’s the Order’s new Azrael.”  
“So how did he find out who you were?” Gibbs asked. “The old Azrael?”  
“Unlikely,” Batman said. “When Valley, the old Azrael, left the Order, he didn’t look back.”  
“You sure?”  
“He wore the suit, but he wasn’t with them.”  
Batman passed the road leading up to Wayne Manor and drove for another mile in silence. He made a quick turn onto a road hidden by shadows.  
“Shortcut?” Gibbs asked.  
“In a manner,” Batman asked. “You’ve got the who figured out. You might as well know the how.”  
“Oh I know the how,” Gibbs said.  
“What?”  
“You’re a freakin’ billionaire,” Gibbs laughed. “I wouldn’t doubt that all of your companies fund your, what hobby?”  
“I’m privately funded,” Batman said. “But I do get first dibs on new technology.”  
“Must be nice,” Gibbs said with a smile.  
“Sometimes.”  
* * *  
Gibbs had no idea what any piece of equipment was for, but he had a feeling that if McGee or Abby were here right now, they’d collapse in the throes of orgasm.  
“The most comprehensive forensics lab in the world,” Batman said. “A computer system that can get any bit of information I want. Several levels, all dedicated to justice.”  
“And conveniently located right under your living room,” Gibbs said, trying to regain his psychological edge.  
“Something like that,” Batman smiled going into an antechamber.  
“So this is it?” Gibbs asked still looking around. “A couple of old computers and some test tubes?”  
“And a full bath,” Bruce Wayne said with a smile as he rejoined Gibbs in the main chamber.  
“Well,” Gibbs said with his own smile. “I guess you have to make do with whatever you can scrape together.”  
“This way,” Bruce said, pointing the way to the exit. “I’ll show you where the package was found.”  
As the two made their way up the stairs to the manor, Bruce shared with Gibbs how he first became Batman. Gibbs was impressed with the drive and training the young man showed. Whether he liked the idea or not, the guy did have the necessary skills to do the work.  
“You ever think about making it official?” Gibbs asked.  
“Batman with a badge?” Bruce asked as they stepped into the foyer. “I could never stand patrol duty long enough to make detective.”  
“There are other options Bruce.”  
“The characters around here feed off of fear,” Bruce said. “It’s their own fear of batman that keeps them from running over each other and the innocent people in this city. That fear would be negated if they knew I operated under the same rules as you.”  
“If you operated on my rules,” Gibbs said, “they’d be even more afraid of you.”  
Bruce gave the older man a brief smile.  
“Alfred!” he called out.  
When no answer came, Bruce led the way into the kitchen to find it empty. “Dammit,” he said. “I sent him to the city to set up the penthouse.”  
“Yeah,” Gibbs said. “I hate when I forget stuff like that.”  
“Ok,” Bruce said. “I have some stuff that we can use.”  
As he led the way through the house, the phone rang and Bruce stopped to answer it.  
“Wayne Manor,” he said.  
“Mr. Wayne,” the voice of a young man said. “My name is Anthony DiNozzo from NCIS.”  
“Yes Mr. DiNozzo?” Bruce said “How can I help you?”  
“Would you mind letting me through your gate so I can talk to my boss?”  
“Uh Mr. DiNozzo, I-”  
Bruce was interrupted by Gibbs taking the phone from him.  
“DiNozzo,” Gibbs said. “I thought I told you to go back to DC.”  
“You did Boss,” Tony said. “But something didn’t feel right. You left something out when we talked earlier.”  
“Alright DiNozzo,” Gibbs said looking to Bruce. “Come on in.”  
Gibbs went and sat on the couch, beside where Bruce had slumped.  
“Don’t feel bad,” he told the billionaire. “They’re really good at their jobs.”  
“Apparently,” Bruce said.  
“Don’t worry,” Gibbs said standing back up. “They can keep a secret.”


	8. Respect

  
  
  
  
  


Tony, Gibbs, and Wayne scoured every inch of the estate from the front door to the main gate. Other than a couple of prints that the trio assumed belonged to Wayne and his butler, they found no trace of who delivered the package.  
“Well,” Gibbs said, removing his latex gloves. “It was a long shot.”  
“So why were you so adamant to come look?” Tony asked.  
“He wanted to make sure he was right,” Bruce said.  
“When?” Tony asked, looking at Gibbs.  
“When I went to pick up Abby’s gizmo,” Gibbs smiled. “You?”  
“While I was trying to chase you,” Tony gave a lopsided grin. “Abby mapped your potential route and things kinda clicked.”  
“So,” Gibbs began, turning to Bruce. “About your suspect.”  
“Another vigilante,” Bruce began. “He’s a member of a group called The Order of St. Dumas.”  
“That like the Masons?” Tony asked with a grin.  
“Closer than you think,” Bruce answered. As Bruce detailed his history with the Order of St. Dumas and Azrael, Tony began furiously texting key points of information about him to Abby and McGee, encouraging them to find out everything they could about the order and Azrael.  
“So what bugs me is that the sword is the only link to the order,” Gibbs said as the trio re-entered the mansion. “Don’t you find that odd?”  
Bruce grimaced before asking, “Have you ever caught a case where the only bit of evidences was so small or obscure it made no sense to anyone involved?”  
“Oh yeah,” Gibbs said. “Alright Mr. Wayne, we’re gonna take your file and look it over. You have my number. If you catch wind of anything before I do, call me.”  
“Yeah,” Bruce said. “And when I’m not wearing my mask, you can call me Bruce.”  
Gibbs nodded as he and DiNozzo left the home again and headed to Tony’s rented car. Once the two were in the vehicle, Tony turned to his boss and watched him as the older man thumbed through the file.  
“Get it out DiNozzo,” Gibbs said without looking up.  
“I don’t get it Boss,” You never trust people with ulterior motives, and you never ever let strangers in on your investigations.”  
“What’s your point?” Gibbs asked closing the file and looking at his senior agent.  
“What is it about this guy?” Tony asked. “Is it the cowl? The cape? The fact that he seems to stay two steps ahead of us on this case?”  
“It’s my gut Tony,” Gibbs said reopening the file. “Wayne’s clean. I can feel it. Besides, if anyone has a reason to fight crime, it’s him.”  
“And if anyone has a reason to hide his face while doing it,” Tony said starting the car, “it’s him.”  
“Yep.”  
* * *  
“Thanks for sharing your room with me Boss,” Tony said as he lugged his and Gibbs’s packs into the motel room. Looking around the room, Tony was relieved to see twin beds separated by a nightstand.  
“Wouldn’t have to,” Gibbs said, tossing the file onto the table next to the door. “If you had went home when I told you to. Unpack and go through the file while I use the head.”  
“Yes Boss,” Tony said to the closing door of the bathroom.  
As Gibbs began relieving himself, he thought back to what he read in the file and what Bruce had told him about the Order of St. Dumas. Something-  
“Don’t make sense Boss,” He heard DiNozzo echoing his thoughts.  
“What DiNozzo?” Gibbs asked as he shook himself dry and turned to the sink.  
“According to this,” Tony’s voice sounded close to the door. “The Order only targets people who have some major significance in the religious world or act in a way that can be perceived as a major threat to the balance of good and evil,”  
“Yeah?” Gibbs prodded soaping his hands.  
“Well, it doesn’t make sense,” Tony continued. “Why would they send their best assassin after a petty officer and a realtor? How bad could they be and what influence could they have? I think that-”  
“This isn’t the work of Azrael Alfred,” Bruce said turning to the monitor that displayed his butler’s image. “It’s something personal against me, and they want me looking at the Order. I gave NCIS bad information.”  
“Then I suggest you get them the right information sir,” Alfred said. “I take it you will not be joining me at the penthouse?”  
“No, but stay there until I get this done.”  
“Very well sir,” Alfred said with a frown. “Do be careful.”  
* * *  
Gibbs heard the thump of something heavy hitting the floor as he turned the water off. Grabbing a towel as he simultaneously grabbed the doorknob, he wondered what DiNozzo could have dropped to make that kind of noise.  
As he opened the door, his hand automatically went to his weapon. Standing over the slumped body of his lead agent was a massive human being holding a sword that glowed white hot.  
“Put it down and step away,” Gibbs called leveling his Sig at the monster’s chest.  
Faster than anyone that size has a right to move, the beast picked up the table and flung it at Gibbs, who dove out of the way just before it splintered over his head. Before he could even raise his eyes to track his opponent, however, the monster had Gibb’s right hand seized and squeezing it so tight, he lost his grip on the gun. The next to the last thing Gibbs saw was Tony’s leg moving as his partner started to come to. The last thing he saw was an impossibly large fist coming at him.  
* * *  
The ringer sounded loudly in the confined space of the Batmobile. Batman looked at the HUD display then to where the phone was docked to the vehicle’s computer system.  
“Agent Gibbs,” he said activating the phone.  
“No,” Came the deep voice from the other end. “But you have a chance to save him.”  
“Who is this?” Batman asked, trying to remember where he had heard that voice before.  
“I’m hurt that you don’t remember me,” the voice answered. “No matter. Now that you know that you were looking in the wrong direction, I have someone that you respect in my grasp. You need to decide whether your life is more valuable than his.”  
“You’re playing a losing game,” Batman said. “Gibbs has friends that are far more dangerous than you or I.”  
“You mean Agent DiNozzo?” the voice asked. “I’m sure he will be quite enraged by this. But by the time he is able to rally his forces, Agent Gibbs or Bruce Wayne will be dead.”  
“What do you want?”  
“I’ve told you. I want you dead.”  
“Then come get me,” Batman said. “Leave Gibbs and other innocent people out of this.”  
“No, no Bruce,” The voice said. “We both know that it’s foolish for me to come directly to you. You have to play my game.”  
Punching a few buttons on his console, Batman thought quickly to keep the man talking long enough. “What do you want me to do?”  
“I want you to undock your phone, stop your car, and get out of it.”  
Batman quickly spotted a deserted section of the highway to pull over. As he killed the engine, he undocked the phone and opened the hatch. Bringing the phone to his ear he informed his caller, “Done.”  
Batman heard the click of the line being disconnected and held the phone out to confirm that the line was dead. He leaned back into the vehicle to check the display. The trace wasn’t complete. Dammit. Batman pressed another series of buttons and stood back up and looked around. Thirty seconds later, the phone rang again.  
“What now?” he asked after seeing that it was again from Gibbs’s phone.  
“Now that your trace has ended, we can talk.” The voice said. “Do not get back into your vehicle. Start walking towards Gotham. I don’t care how you ultimately get there, as long as you leave your car where it is.”  
“So you can come and steal it?” Batman asked scornfully. “Maybe use it to help beat me?”  
“Far from it,” the voice said. “I just don’t want you using it to beat me. I would imagine that once your body is found, the police will impound it, take it apart, and find out all of your secrets. By then however, you’ll be dead, I’ll be gone, and Gotham can rot in the cesspool that it will become.”  
“So that’s what this is about? Getting rid of me so Gotham can fall into anarchy?”  
“You know better than that,” the voice mocked Batman’s earlier scorn. “Like I told you, I could care less about Gotham. I’m just after you.”  
Batman noticed a green light flashing from his belt. Removing the device, he read the display with interest. Smiling he quickly entered a set of commands into the device and replaced it in its holder.  
“Just so you know,” he said into the phone. “When this is over, I’m gonna personally seal the door and windows of your cell in Blackgate.”  
“So many have already tried that Bruce,” the voice said. “And so many have failed. Get to Gotham. Meet me on the docks in one hour. You win, I’ll tell you where to find your friend. You lose, I’ll set him free. You don’t show, he dies and I go after someone you really like.” The line clicked again and the call ended. Batman smiled as he heard the rotors overhead. He did say he didn’t care how I got there.


	9. Revealed

  
  
  
  
  


Gibbs opened his eye and winced at the pain when his right eye refused to open as well. Damn, that guy was fast, he thought, and strong. Gibbs looked around as much as his limited vision would allow him. Turning his head, he felt the distinctive burn of a rope around his neck. Now that he thought of it, he could also feel rope binding his wrists and ankles. From somewhere to his left, he heard a bolt being thrown back. Deciding quickly, he closed his eye again and feigned unconsciousness. No sooner had the door opened; he heard heavy footsteps approach him.  
“You might as well open your eyes,” his captor said. “I know you can’t still be out.”  
Gibbs didn’t even flinch, hoping his ruse could buy him another moment.  
“If you want to find out about Agent DiNozzo, you’ll quit playing.”  
This got Gibbs’s attention. His eye snapped open and he glared at his captor.  
“Where is he?” Gibbs asked.  
“Right now,” the behemoth cocked his head in thought. “He’s probably sitting on the back of an ambulance with an ice pack on his head, calling in McGee and David.”  
“Why didn’t you kill us?” Gibbs asked, knowing he was probably pushing his luck.  
“I didn’t kill him because he wasn’t important,” the man said as he knelt beside Gibbs. “I didn’t kill you, because you are.”  
“So why kill Granger and Winslow?” Gibbs asked. “They couldn’t have been important enough for you to kill them.”  
“Ah yes,” the man said. “Granger was a mistake. A happy one it turns out.” Seeing the confused look on his captor’s face, he continued. “You see, I chose Granger at random. I knew when I chose him that there was a chance someone from your agency would get involved, but I had no idea the caliber of investigator NCIS would send.  
“I was almost concerned when I watched you at the scene. Your intensity and professionalism are traits that could have interrupted my plans. Fortunately, he took an interest in you. He doesn’t get along with strangers so easily. Did you know that? At any rate, I noticed how much he respected you from the start, and I knew I had to keep you close. So, I accessed your file and those of you team and Petty Officer Granger to see what I could find.”  
“Granger’s file included the case file too,” Gibbs guessed.  
“Fortunately yes,” the man said as he straightened. “Your agents are very tedious when it comes to filling out their reports. If you live through this, you should give them some recognition for that.”  
“Don’t worry,” Gibbs said raising his head. Whatever he intended to say next was cut off as the rope tightened and began choking him.  
“Oh, don’t do that,” his captor said reaching down to work with the ropes. “I’ve used a series of double constrictor knots. You’ll kill yourself long before you can get into a sitting position.”  
Gibbs took a long thankful breath as he glared harder at the man who held so much power over him.  
“Oh yes,” the man said again. “I read some of your old case files. Lieutenant Cobb was very clever. I like that in people.”  
“Just remember, Cobb died in the end,” Gibbs spat as his breathing became normal again. “And I’ll personally give the Medal of Honor to whoever puts a round in your head.”  
“Now you see,” the man said. “It’s talk like that that makes me think we can’t be friends.”  
Gibbs grunted as he lay on the floor. Staring at the ceiling, he began taking account of his situation and looking for a way out of it.  
* * *  
The homing signal on the remote device led the drone straight to Batman. This was one of Lucius’s better ideas. He could deploy it on one side of the city while he patrolled the other, essentially giving him a presence all over the city. Tonight however, it was his mode of transportation. As he adjusted his perch, he realized that the drone was exactly built for this task, but it was his only option to get to the city in time.  
As he sipped above the tree line, and the city came into sight, Batman mulled over the thing that had been bugging him since the conversation with the madman ended. Out of nowhere, the voice came to him again and he knew where he had heard it before. He reached for cell phone on his belt as the city limits sign passed below him. He made a call to Blackgate Prison. By the time the warden verified his suspicion, the drone was bringing him to the roof of Gotham Arms Motel, where Gibbs and DiNozzo were staying. Batman zipped sown the side of the building and landed next to one of the squad cars that had responded to the scene.  
“It’s not Azrael,” Tony and Batman said simultaneously as the vigilante ran up to the ambulance where the federal agent was being attended to. Commissioner Gordon had been interviewing the agent when Batman arrived.  
“Who the hell is it?” Gordon asked the two.  
“Bane has escaped Blackgate,” Batman informed the commissioner.  
“Christ,” Gordon said, fishing a cigarette out of his pack.  
“Who’s Bane?” DiNozzo asked looking from one to the other.  
“Serious bad news,” Gordon answered.  
“He has Gibbs,” Batman interjected. “He’s using your boss to torment and lure me into a trap.”  
DiNozzo dropped the icepack and stood up. “What’s the game plan?”  
“We have less than a half an hour to get him,” Batman said. “He wants me to meet him at the docks, but he called from the Seagate Amusement Park area.”  
“You think he’s holding Gibbs at the park?” Gordon asked.  
“That’s my bet,” Batman replied. “DiNozzo, you go with Gordon to get Gibbs. I’ll go meet Bane at the Docks.”  
“My team is on their way,” DiNozzo said. “That guy took me out and I didn’t even hear him come into the room. You’re gonna need help with him.”  
“If anyone else shows up, he may have a way of killing Gibbs.”  
“And he may be bringing Gibbs with him,” Tony retorted.  
“The kid’s right,” Gordon supplied. “I’ll take a team to Seagate, you take him to the dock.”  
“Great,” DiNozzo said. “Now I get to right in that… What the hell kinda car is that anyway?”  
“We won’t be using it,” Batman said. “I had to leave it behind.”  
“I guess I’m driving then,” DiNozzo said heading for his rental car. Batman exchanged looks with Gordon before following Tony to the car.  
“I don’t think this is going to work,” Batman said looking at the cramped cockpit of the Ford Taurus.  
Tony unlocked the doors and made to slide into the driver’s seat. “You’ll be fine. Just duck your head a bit.”  
* * *  
The brute was finished making adjustments at the table and was coming back over to him. Gibbs’s mind was working overtime, trying to find a way out of this mess. If he could only get to his knife.  
“Agent Gibbs,” his captor said, leaning down to him again. “I’m going to pick you up. If I were you, I would resist the urge to struggle. I won’t loosen the rope for you again.”  
“Do what you have to do,” Gibbs said.  
Bane lifted the older man easily and carried him over to the table. Gibbs’s eyes quickly scanned the area of the room he could see, looking for options. Unfortunately he saw his best hope of escape in a pile his other stuff in the corner by the door. As Bane lay him on the table, Gibbs realized that he was in some serious trouble.  
“Now, I’m hooking your rope to this table,” Bane said. “I have an appointment with him. If he shows up, you may have a chance to get out of this mess. If not, I’ll be back, and I won’t be so concerned about keeping you alive.”  
“You’re forgetting one thing pal,” Gibbs said.  
“Oh?”  
“Even if you kill me, my team won’t quit hunting you until you’re dead.”  
“Agent Gibbs,” Bane said. “You seriously underestimate me. Now. Just lie still and stop trying to antagonize me. Trust me. You don’t want me to hurt you.” With that, the monster of a man turned his back on the helpless agent. As he approached the door, he reached up and flipped a switch next to it. Gibbs felt a slight vibration under him as his head slowly began to rise.  
“It will take about a half an hour for the table to raise high enough to kill you.” He said without turning back to Gibbs. If you struggle against your ropes, you’ll just die quicker. Use the time hoping that Batman shows up. That’s your only hope for surviving.”


	10. Bane

Tony couldn’t hide the grin as he glanced over and saw Gotham City’s champion with his head bowed to prevent any damage to his suit or the car ceiling. Batman had given Tony a quick history on Bane and his history with the man-beast. His descriptions of the villain’s physical appearance defied Tony’s reasoning, however after being so quickly and easily incapacitated by the man, Tony had little trouble believing Batman’s descriptions of his abilities.  
“You can’t help it can you?” he asked the man in the passenger seat, as they sped to the waterfront.  
“Help what?” Batman returned.  
“You can’t help going out and doing everything you can to clean this city up.”  
“It’s my city,” Batman said. “I just want to see it become a safe place for good people to live.”  
“What got you into this?” DiNozzo asked. “Just bored? Tired of sitting in your mansion counting your money?”  
“Focus on what we’re doing,” Batman said, shifting his eyes to DiNozzo. If Bane doesn’t show, or if Gordon’s men don’t find Gibbs in time, you’re gonna have to move fast.”  
“We’re almost there,” DiNozzo said. “So who was it?”  
“Hm?”  
“Who did you lose?” DiNozzo repeated. “Wife? Girlfriend? Brother? Si-”  
“My parents,” Batman interrupted. “When I was a kid.”  
“Wow,” Tony said, as he turned into the dock area. “That’s tough. How di-”  
“I’m not talking about it now,” Batman said, opening his door as Tony came to a stop.  
“I wonder if Jackson ever dated anyone in Gotham,” Tony shook his head as he too exited the vehicle.  
“Stay here,” Batman said. “He wants me, and you don’t need to get hurt again.”  
“Trust me,” Tony said. “The creep’s not gonna get the drop on me again.”  
“You don’t want to go toe to toe with this guy Tony,” Batman said. “Stay here.”  
“But-” Whatever Tony was going to say was left unsaid as the caped crusader disappeared around the corner of a warehouse. By the time the NCIS agent rounded the same corner, Batman was nowhere to be seen.  
Cautiously, Tony picked his way from the shadow of one warehouse to another, looking in every direction for some sign of Batman or the looming hulk he described as Bane. Coming from the shadows of a warehouse, Tony listened carefully, hearing only the water lapping against the pier. He looked around a corner and saw nothing. Taken a tentative step, a sudden chill crept its way up his spine.  
“He brought help?” a voice said behind him.  
Tony spun around, bringing his gun up and stared in shock at the sight before him. There is no way that something this big snuck up on him.  
“You should have just gave him your keys and waited at the motel,” the behemoth said.  
Before Tony could get a shot off, the monster struck his hand and knocked the pistol from it. The next thing Tony saw was the huge arms as they circle his body and began squeezing.  


* * *

  
It was getting hard to breath. Gibbs had been taking shallow breaths, while frantically searching with his fingers for some purchase on the smooth table. Gibbs fought the urge to move his arms as any struggle would tighten the knots that bound him and as a result choke him even quicker. The table had been inclining since the monster of a man left him here. Gibbs knew he didn’t have much time before he was completely erect. He also didn’t know if his weight would shift and tighten the rope before the table stopped. What he did know was that if someone didn’t get here soon, he was finished.  


* * *

  
“Ok,” Gordon said as the group of uniformed and plain clothed officers gathered around him. “It’s been a while since Joker used this place, and we had techs all over the place. It doesn’t mean the bastard didn’t hide some nasty surprises that we couldn’t find. It also doesn’t mean the guy who snatched Gibbs didn’t trap the place. Be careful. Let’s find this guy.”  
With that, the officers separated in all directions pairing off in prearranged teams. Gordon and his partner headed directly to the funhouse, where Joker had previously held court. As the two cautiously approached the building, Gordon listened intently for any sounds coming from within. Hearing nothing, they entered with guns leading the way.  
“Commissioner, we have something over at the Freak House.”  


* * *

  
Bane had just finished hanging Tony’s limp body to the wall of the warehouse. He spared a glance over his shoulder when he heard the almost silent thumps of Batman’s feet hit the docks. Making sure that DiNozzo’s ropes were tight enough, he turned to face his nemesis.  
“You’re almost late,” he said.  
“Where is he?” Batman asked.  
“You’ll have to beat it out of me.”  


* * *

  
Tony woke in time to see Batman lunge at the monstrous man. Taking a quick assessment of his situation, he was only mildly surprised to find that his biceps were bound to his torso, but his forearms were still somewhat free. As Batman dodged the heavy blows from the beast, Tony began wiggling against his restraints. The rope tightened around him biting through his jacket and shirt cutting off the circulation. Tony watched as Batman leapt back from Bane’s attack with a heavy pipe, only to deliver a low drop kick to the behemoth’s knees.  
Bane howled in pain as he felt his right knee crack under the assault from Batman. Undeterred, he quickly reached down and grabbed his quarry’s arms in a vice-like grip.  
“Now,” he spat, “I’m gonna break you for good.”  
Bane lifted Batman high above his head, only to bring him crashing back to the ground with such force, blood shot from the mouth of his victim.  


* * *

  
The sound of machinery came from beyond the door. Gordon had ordered his men to hold until he got there. The commissioner ran like a madman to the building, hoping he wasn’t too late. He didn’t want to explain to the feds how he let one of their agents die, but he didn’t want to risk losing his men running in to save him if the place was trapped.  
As Gordon and his search partner entered the Freak House, they quickly picked their way through the building until they found the detectives who first noticed the noise.  
“No traps on the door we could find Commissioner,” the older detective said.  
Gordon looked over the door, the frame, the surrounding walls, and the floor to make sure himself. Satisfied, he nodded to the detective, who took a step back. Putting all of his considerable weight behind the attack, the detective lunged at the door and felt it disintegrate under his weight.  


* * *

  
Tony watched as Bane picked up the limp form of Batman to once again slam him into the pavement. He was struggling to breath himself, but had managed to get his right hand to his belt buckle. _Thank God for rule number nine,_ he thought to himself as his buckle came undone and the hidden knife came out. Tony struggled more to bring the knife up to the rope as Batman’s body once again crashed into the ground.  
Batman felt his body hit the pavement again, harder than previous times. He knew something had broken, but the pain of the break was muffled by the pain throughout the rest of his body. His mind fought furiously to work through the pain and come up with a way out of this before it was too late. He had the sensation of being picked up again, this time, his arms were still free. His hand went to his utility belt and grasped the handle of the only tool that could possibly save him. Bane was holding him by the throat. The cowl was doing its job to protect his neck, but just barely. He was still struggling to breath when he brought his hand up to Bane’s and pressed the button.  
As the rope finally broke free, Tony heard the monster howl in pain. He looked up from the crouched position he had landed in to see the massive body twitching and Bane screaming in agony. _Must be a massively powered Taser,_ he though as his numbed fingers fumbled with his ankle holster.  
Bane recovered just enough to knock the offending device from Batman’s hand. As the two combatants paused to catch their collective breaths, the feeling in Tony’s arms started to return. The pins and needles feeling was rushing up and down his arms as he leveled his backup pistol at the monster. Just as Bane made to lunge at Batman again, Tony emptied his clip into the massive body of the great hulk.  


* * *

  
Gordon had been working furiously. They burst into the room to find Gibbs hanging from a rope attached to a table that was slowly inclining. Gordon reach the table just as Gibbs’s body stopped twitching. He quickly cut the rope off of the federal agent, freeing his neck and wrists. For two minutes, Gordon had been trying to breathe life back into the body of the NCIS agent, while another detective worked to restart the heart. Gordon was starting to worry that they were indeed too late.  
Without warning, Gibbs began coughing and groaning. Thank God, Gordon thought. He forced first one eyelid, and then the other open, making sure the pupils focused properly against the weak light of his men’s flashlights.  
“Gibbs,” he said, lightly slapping the man’s cheek. “Can you hear me?”  
Gibbs. Can you hear me? the voice sounded muffled. Come on man, snap out of it. The voice was getting clearer. Gibbs though he recognized it.  
“Gibbs, wake the hell up!” Gordon shouted.  
“Christ Gordon I’m awake,” Gibbs groaned as he struggled to sit up.  
“Stay there,” Gordon said, trying to force Gibbs to lie back down.  
“Can’t,” Gibbs said, shaking off the hand that was holding him. “Where’s my gun?”  
“Over here,” Once of the detectives said.  
“Where’s Tony?”  
“He went to the docks with Batman,” Gordon said as he helped Gibbs to his feet and made sure the man could stay there. “They thought maybe Bane would bring you there.”  
“He didn’t,” Gibbs said rubbing his sore neck. He felt the sting of the rope burns as his fingers traced the pattern. Now that he thought of it, he could feel the burn in his wrists, ankles, and waist as well. “Come on,” he said, taking his guns and knife from the detective. “We’ve got to get that bastard.”  
“I wonder if one of their fathers might have had an affair,” Gordon said to himself as Gibbs led his men out of the room. Before leaving himself, he paused long enough to pick up Gibbs’s jacket. He gave a second look as a small leather bound notepad fell from the pocket to the floor. Picking it up, he placed the jacket over his arm and the notepad in his own pocket, planning to give both back to their owner. He looked around the room once more before following the rest outside to the cars.  
Someone must have informed the rest of the cops that the search was over. By the time Gordon got to his own car, everyone else was gathered and preparing to move out. Gordon got into the back seat of his own car as Gibbs had already taken the passenger seat, and his driver was already in place.  
“Sorry Commissioner, he-”  
“Forget it Murphy,” Gordon groused. “Just get to the docks now.” As Murphy placed the car in gear and led the other cops out of the amusement park, Gordon handed Gibbs’s jacket over the front seat. 


	11. Endgame

Bane turned his attention to Tony. Enraged at the attack, he stumbled to his feet and lumbered to the NCIS agent. Tony fumbled the spare clip for his backup pistol out of his shoulder harness and drove it home just as Bane wrapped his massive hands around his neck. He quickly felt the blood and air pressure restricted in his neck and dark spots started clouding his vision.  
“You should know by now,” he could barely hear the beast say. “If you’re going to shoot your enemy, shoot to kill!”  
As consciousness began to escape him, Tony suddenly felt the pressure on his neck lessen. Falling to the ground, he began coughing and gasping for breath. Damn, he thought. I put ten bullets in him and it’s barely slowed him down. Once he caught his breath, he looked to find Batman mounted on Bane’s back. Batman had a sleeper hold firmly cinched around the big man’s neck and his knees ramming into the giant’s bloody back. Tony picked up his pistol and pointed it at the struggling pair.  


* * *

  
Gordon’s phone rang as the convoy of police cars sped through the main entrance to Gotham Harbor.  
“Gordon,” he answered. “Yeah, he’s fine. I have him right here. Yeah hold on.” Gordon handed his phone over the back of the seat, tapping Gibbs’s shoulder.  
“Yeah, Tony,” Gibbs said bringing the phone to his ear.  
“No, Boss, it’s McGee,” Tim’s voice came from the other end. “Ziva and I are a few minutes out of town. Are you alright?”  
“What are you doing back here McGee?”  
“Tony called and said you’d been taken,” McGee answered.  
“I’m fine,” Gibbs said. “We’re on our way to meet up with Tony at the harbor docks. Go ahead and meet us there.”  
“Uh, Boss, I called Gordon because Tony’s not answering his phone.”  
“What?”  
“I was calling to get an update and let him know that we were close, and it’s going straight to voicemail.”  
“Damn it,” Gibbs said, shutting Gordon’s phone and tossing it back to him. “Move this damned car!” he shouted to Murphy.  


* * *

  
Tony couldn’t get a clear shot of Bane’s head without risking Batman too. Things weren’t looking too good for Batman anyway. Bane had managed to get a firm footing and was about to start backpedaling into the wall of the warehouse Tony himself was just recently hanging from. If Batman lost his grip on the brute, the tide of the fight would turn. Tony decided quickly to prevent that and lowered his pistol. He fired two quick shots, each hitting their marks. Bane howled again as his kneecaps exploded with blood and bone flying. He quickly lost his balance and fell to the ground on his ruined knees. The jarring of the fall caused Batman to lose his grip and slide off. Tony fired three more rounds center mass into the mammoth chest and Bane fell, face first to the ground.  
Batman slowly got to his knees and crawled to his opponent. After placing a couple of fingers at the big man’s neck, he looked back up to Tony. He shook his head and struggled to his feet. Tony dropped his arm as he too rose to a standing position. Batman took a couple of steps before collapsing once again to the ground.  
“Bruce!” Tony called rushing to the crumpled form.  
“Get me out of sight,” Batman whispered before losing consciousness.  


* * *

  
Gibbs jumped out of the police car just as it ground to a halt in front of one of the warehouses. He began running to the dock area calling out Tony’s name. Gordon followed Gibbs while shouting for his men to spread out and search the area. Gibbs and Gordon rounded the corner to find Tony leaned up on the trunk of his car. Gibbs rushed over to his man and grabbed him by the shoulders.  
“Tony,” he said nearly out of breath. “Are you okay?”  
“I’m fine Boss,” Tony answered looking his Boss in the eyes. His own eyes bulged as he saw the rope burns around his boss’s neck. “My God, what did he do to you?”  
“Nothing compared to what he did to you,” Gibbs answered looking at the bruises on his friend’s face.  
“Grrrrr!” All three men heard the roar of man as he began to rise to his feet. Tony barely got to see Bane climbing to one knee before his gun was in this hand. Three pistols fired at once, each depleting their clips into the giant’s chest. The impacts of the bullets forced Bane to fall backwards as he collapsed once more a bloodied mess.  
Gibbs went over to make sure the man was down for good this time, as Gordon came over to Tony’s side.  
“He left already?”  
“Yeah,” Tony said, placing a steadying hand on the trunk and not looking at Gordon.  
“How bad was he hurt?”  
“You know Batman,” Tony said with a shrug.  
As Gibbs rejoined them, Gordon’s Cops descended on the scene with McGee and Ziva picking their way through the crowd. As the team reunited and concern for Tony and Gibbs flowed from the late arriving members, Gordon set about instructing his men to secure the scene.  


* * *

  
“Are you sure they actually went to Police Headquarters Boss?” Tony asked as he passed through the gates of Wayne Manor.  
“Yes DiNozzo,” Gibbs sighed. “McGee just called to tell me that the body had made it to the morgue.”  
“Good.”  
As Tony came to a stop in front of the doors to the mansion, a white-haired man exited and came down the steps to meet them.  
“Special agents Gibbs and DiNozzo, I presume,” the man said with a British accent.  
“You must be Alfred,” Gibbs said.  
“Indeed,” Alfred replied looking into the car. “And where is-”  
“Right here,” Tony interrupted, opening the trunk of the rental car.  
“Good Lord, you can’t be serious,” Alfred said, hurrying to the back of the car.  


* * *

  
“I’m glad you were there Tony,” Bruce said from his bed. Tony, Gibbs, and Alfred had managed to get the injured crusader into the house and begin the medical treatments that he could have easily and more expertly received at a hospital, were it not for the questions that would arise. An hour later Gotham’s guardian was conscious and able to say a proper goodbye to his new comrades in arms.  
“It’s a shame he had to be killed,” Bruce said. “I try to avoid that at all costs.”  
“Welcome to the real world Bruce,” Gibbs said. “Sometimes, the only way to stop a bad guy is to stop them for good.”  
Bruce looked to Alfred, who closed his eyes and gave a barely perceptible shake of his head.  
“Listen,” Tony said. “You might not agree with us, but seriously. You’ve had the guy arrested how many times and he still comes after you? Geez, I hope all of your enemies aren’t this driven.”  
“Yeah, well,” Bruce said as he lay back. “At least I wasn’t hurt too badly this time.” Once again, Alfred closed his eyes and shook his head, accompanying the act with a sigh. Tony and Gibbs took this as their cue to exit and wished Bruce a fast recovery before leaving.  


* * *

  
The man opened the bay doors and step up to the back of the van. Looking around, he quickly opened the back of the van and stepped back into the building. Moments later, he emerged once again pushing the Gurney. After a brief struggle, he had the body securely inside the van. He pushed the gurney back inside the building and closed the van doors before climbing into the driver’s seat. An hour later, he had brought the body into the room that would be its home for the foreseeable future. He lowered the sheet to expose the face of his “patient.”  
“Soon,” he said. “You will be well, and we’ll hit the Bat where it hurts most.” His patient’s eyes opened and focused on him. “And then my son, we will destroy those who did this to you.”  
Bane closed his eyes once more and drifted into unconsciousness to the sound of his father’s maniacal laughter. Just before clear thought escaped him, he considered his father’s plans. They would do. And then he would take care of the King Snake as well. 


End file.
